#will solace is not someone you screw with | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thesilmarillionblog · 8 months ago

Text

𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u

Part: 10

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: heavy angst, hurt, language, Soldier Boy gets hurt, PTSD, mention of drugs, mention of torture, reader gets hurt

Word Count: 4245

A/N: English is not my first language.

♩ This is the song of the chapter, 'Alone and Together' by No Clear Mind.

When Ben sat down on the bed and waited, neither of you said anything or did anything for a while. You hated how he still treated you, so you turned your back on him while closing your eyes and avoiding the heavy feeling in your heart. You wanted to let things go, but you also felt like you had a lot to say to him about how deeply his actions had wounded you and how much you still suffered. You stayed mute because you knew that talking about it would only make things worse and give him the impression that you still cared.

All you longed for was for him to see how much his acts had hurt and pained you and to realize just how selfish he was. But you eventually realized that Ben wasn't someone who would actually listen to you, even for a brief moment. Even if you decided to give him another chance and let him get close to you again, he would still hurt you without considering the consequences or your feelings; therefore, it was best to let the past die in the past and leave memories of both joy and sorrow behind. These blissful days would never return.

You were ruminating so much that you shifted on the bed until your chest reached the edge, making it obvious that you didn't want to come into contact with him. Ben seemed to pause due to your behavior.

“I don't bite,” he said, annoyed that you were making every effort to avoid him. This ended the quiet that lingered between you. “You can come a little closer. Sleep comfortable.”

“I am comfortable.”

He sighed with annoyance as he made his way to the bed. Ben considered drawing a little closer to you, but he quickly dismissed this idea. You would become upset based on your response to his touch and your fragile attitude. Even though he didn't know you were in his thoughts at all times, he felt extremely hungry and affectionate toward you ever since he woke up. And though every cell in his body was screaming to be near you, to touch you, and to hold you close to him, the realization that you didn't feel the same way made him feel a little insecure—a feeling he wasn't used to experiencing in his connection with you.

He whispered, “You'll fall there,” in an attempt to persuade you.” I'm not going to touch you.” Again.

“It won't hurt if I fall, though.” In an attempt to find some solace, you took the entire blanket from him and placed it between your thighs. “I'm a supe too, remember?” you exclaimed.

Ben leaned down at the head of the bed, his veiny and powerful arms supporting his head while he stared at his bare chest and tried not to smile when you took the blanket away from him a little too firmly.

He abruptly muttered, “I'm sorry,” in a dry voice, trying to start a conversation while he continued to glance at your back and listen to your quiet, gentle heartbeats.

“For what?”

How should he respond? For shoving you into the bed, sucking your nipples, kissing you out of the blue, and attempting to fuck you like a wolf in heat? Taking a big breath, he folded his arms across his chest and scowled, not knowing quite what to say. He didn't used to talk to you like this since you weren't that far away from him before he screwed things up.

You attempted to contain your rage and kept your eyes closed because you didn't want to get into another fight with Ben, and you knew how sensitive his nerves were. You were also feeling a little anxious about his new, unpredictable abilities.

“Just don't do it again,” you simply said, trying to sound calm but firm. “I am serious, Ben.”

He wanted to argue, but he was at a loss for words. He answered, “Of course,” in a low voice, knowing that he shouldn't have behaved in that manner before speaking with you in an appropriate way.

Ben knew you moved too much when you slept, so even though he wanted to be near you, he went to the edge of the bed to give you enough room to make you feel comfortable and sleep in peace. While he listened to your calm breathing and watched as you swiftly fell off to sleep, he reminisced on your shared memories and felt sorrow for all that had happened between you, including how much he had messed up. He realized it would be difficult to win back your trust, but he knew he would do everything in his power to do so. He just didn't know how.

This morning, just after changing into your new clothes in the restroom, you ate breakfast quietly as Butcher and his buddies talked about Vought and the Seven. When Annie began to dispute with Butcher and Hughie, you did not interrupt them—in contrast to Ben, who was also having arguments with Butcher—and instead concentrated on your meal.

“I'm just saying consuming those Temp-V's doesn't sound safe, and you're forcing Hughie to inject it in himself too,” Annie pointed to Hughie's face as he attempted to eat breakfast quietly.

Hughie stated, “He's not pressuring me. I'm taking Temp-V on my own initiative, and I find it to be really helpful,” he said quietly. Annie shot him a cold stare, which instantly caused him to stop talking.

“Why the fuck are you all attacking me?” Butcher spoke while lifting his arms. “Temp-V is absolutely secure. It only grants us superpowers for a full day. Is there any damage in this”

“Oh my god,” Annie muttered, irritated with Butcher's impetuous behavior. “Don't you think it's a bit atypical to play with your DNA that fluently?”

“So what?” Annie was cut off by Ben's stern voice. “Even if it harms their biology, it's not wrong to use it since it's better to die than to live like a weak pussy.”

Butcher instantly agreed with Ben: “Soldier Boy's got a point,” and he gave Hughie a tight squeeze. “Besides, we are just a bunch of annoying losers against the Seven and Vought. You have to find them more for us because we need to use all of this trash. I don't want to shatter your little heart, love, but all you do is consume up my electricity, and right now we are outnumbered against them.”

Annie's jaw tightened as she glanced at Butcher, her eyes suddenly brightening with a deep shade of yellow.

“Maybe your electricity can be useful at some points; what do you say?”

“Hey,” Butcher grinned at her and added, “Let's not spoil our family meeting. Stay calm. That's not how you keep your man, right?”

Hughie put his hand Annie's and softly said, “Can we talk about this later?”

Annie sighed angrily, shoving Hughie's hand away from her and getting to her feet, adding, “You know, I need to go, and we'll definitely talk about this again.”

As Butcher said Annie farewell before leaving the house after their argument, you and Ben were observing their facial expressions. Hughie looked at Ben, irritated, as he took his phone from him and began to play with it. You weren't asking anything, but you were occasionally peering in,om him even though you were rather interested in what he was doing with the phone.

“We need two phones just like this one.” Ben abruptly said, “One for her, one for me,” holding up the device to Butcher's face.

“Are you a teenager obsessed with technology?” He was instantly teased by Butcher, who gave him one of his nasty smiles.

Ben looked at Hughie, who was kindly asking for his phone back, and said, “If you are not going to give us two phones, I'm going to take this,” but Ben wasn't even paying attention to Hughie at all.

“Alright, we'll get your phones. Could you please return mine to me?”

With a quick motion, you grabbed the phone out of Ben's hand and delivered it to Hughie while smiling. With a look of graditude on his face, he returned your shy smile.

Ben said, glaring at Butcher's face, “Today,” giving Hughie no attention.

“Alright,” Butcher agreed. “We'll buy your phones today and make sure you two watch the best porn and make yourself busy, alright?”

“Ben is a man of actions; he likes to screw every kind of woman in real life,” you sarcastically remarked, grimaced at Butcher's remarks and folding your arms over your chest.

Ben immediately asserted, “I don't,” and you asked Butcher, “Can we already move to the place we're going to stay in?” without giving him the chance to respond to you.

“Sure, sweetie, but let me have my breakfast in peace, and then we can leave.”

You watched the TV and the news until Butcher and the others finished their meal, which was less than an hour ago. You looked for any updates regarding Earving, but there was nothing at all. Everything on every channel was Homelander and political crap.

You could tell he was a dangerous man by the way he used language, his professionalism in interviews, and his controlled facial expression. It appeared that Vought had discovered the ideal obedient superhero that fit their preferences.

Ben quietly murmured, “Hey, we're leaving,” as you were lost in idleness.

You nodded to him, got up, and watched him pick up his shield from where he'd put it yesterday on the corner. That was the moment you realized you had never really used your powers. Since you weren't safe at all and you weren't sure whether you were experiencing any hidden side effects like Ben, you realized you wanted to exercise as soon as possible.

After leaving Kimiko and Frenchie at home, Butcher and Hughie took you to the place where you and Ben will be living for a while. Hughie kindly assisted you in learning how to use the phones that Butcher had purchased for you and Ben. You learned how to make calls easily, at least. Ben had complained that you just required his number and that no one else's was needed, but you disregarded him and asked Hughie to record everyone's number on your phone.

While you were looking over the house, Ben placed his shield in a corner. Despite its small size, you felt safer there than you would in the city since it was isolated. The smell of this place, which was like a forest, finally helped you to relax after the sickeningly heavy and dirty air of the city center.

Butcher put his hand in his pocket and stated, “You're just going to stay here for a while until me and my boys sort things out with the Vought and until you are a bit forgotten by the angry people of America. I'm telling you, though, don't leave the house. If you do, I'll know. I will occasionally check on you.”

“Go suck a friend's balls and make sure he puts his jizz in your empty mouth.” Ben scowled in frustration, set down the closest coach, and put his hands behind his head. “All you do is talk for fucks sake.”

Cursing him back in a mocking manner, Butcher dragged you into a corner and said, “You seem like a more reasonable supe than him, don't you? You should

stay inside the house, dear. I mean it. You have all you need here, and it's a pretty safe location. I will come see how you're doing.”

“Alright, alright.” You nodded to him after glancing at Ben, who had already begun watching TV, but you knew that he was keeping his ears on Butcher and you. “But what will happen afterwards?”

“You hand that off to your teammate and me. There are a lot of things to do here, and you'll have time to think about your future.”

“I just don't want to get sucked into something dangerous; I'm not a bad person, and I've already gone through a lot.” It felt uncomfortable to share your anxieties with him, but you knew you had to be clear from the beginning and that they needed to understand you.

“I don't even know how to fix things between myself and this country,” you added, crossing your arms over your chest. “And no offense, but I don't trust you and your friends at all.”

Ben grimaced as he heard your intimate conversation with Butcher, during which you confided your anxieties to him. Given that you had known one another for a long time, had an extensive amount of memories, and experienced similar experiences, he ought to have been the one with whom you opened up about everything. The idea that you would trust a complete stranger—someone you had just met—irritated Ben. He should have been to one you opened yourself. It was something else Ben needed to solve with you.

Ben also knew that, as long as you were with him, nobody could hurt you. He would never be tricked again, and that is the sole reason he was captured. He would ensure that no one, not even himself, could ever hurt you again.

“You have no other chance but to trust me and my boys though, right? Why being so ungrateful? I'm taking of you two well enough,” said Butcher with a sly smirk and gave you squeeze to your shoulder shortly just before he left the house.

None of you spoke as Butcher left the house, but after a while, you felt his heavy eyes on you as he shifted postures on the couch and watched the TV in silence.

Ben listened to you while you were taking a shower when he grew tired of watching television. Although he wasn't intentionally focusing on you, his supe hearing was drawn to you while you were around. He was compelled to listen to every sound you made. He couldn't deny that your presence soothed him either. Ben didn't care what the reason was as long as you were with him at that particular moment, which might have been anything different, something deeper, or the fact that you were the only person he actually trusted. He knew what you had was special.

You returned to the room after a long shower, changed into clean, gratefully new clothes, and saw him pour whiskey into his glass. You wondered whether his body could withstand a day without drugs or alcohol.

“Why are you looking in such a way?” Ben took a sip of his drink and asked in a lighthearted manner. “I'm curious about what you're thinking right now.”

“I was wondering if you could just give up drinking or using drugs for a single day,” you asked, getting annoyed that he seemed okay with everything. happening.

“I survived for decades without using them, sweetie,” he murmured, instantly putting an evil grin on his face.

You changed the topic and said in a low voice, “Do you think they'll trick us? They can easily fill this house with the same gas that made us sleep for ages.”

Ben instantly stiffened up and felt aggressive as he considered the idea of being betrayed by teammates once more and returning to the lab in Russia. When he considered the years he wasted and the treachery he had experienced—years without you—it was difficult to contain his rage.

He filled his glass once more and remarked, “They might try.” His eyes remained fixed on yours. “I doubt they would dare do such a thing. They really want that Homelander guy dead and are most likely attempting to kill that man for a very long period, but it seems that they ultimately fall unsuccessful.”

You shivered and felt uneasy when he brought about Homelander, and you whispered, “There has to be a reason why they can't handle a single supe, Ben.”

“Of course,” he said without hesitation. “They are just some weak, useless piece of shitbags, that's it, and that's why they need me.”

“I watched Homelander, that man, on TV. He is undoubtedly skilled at manipulating the public and the media, and in today's society, power seems to be much more significant.”

“Remember what Butcher said: People easily forget, and they'll forget him as well when they realize he's not the strongest supe at all.”

You scowled in annoyance at seeing Ben had no longer cared about the world or how things were working at all. You didn't know if he was up to something or whether he simply didn't give a damn other than killing Homelander.

“Ben, I don't believe that getting rid of Homelander will resolve anything from our side. Can't you see how everyone hates me and you at the moment? If you attack Homelander and Vought, things will only become worse.” You replied angrily, annoyed by Ben's careless demeanor, “Butcher and his crew just want to use you against him.”

As he argued with you, Ben let go of the empty glass he was holding and sighed as he observed your annoyance growing. He trusted your strength, but at some point, he became uneasy about your vulnerability.

Ben vowed to destroy Vought and all Seven members when he was set free that day and began searching for you. He understood that the only way to get things going right would be to resolve the issue between you, him, and Vought. He would take over the whole company and form his own new team, proving to the world that he was the strongest supe and that nobody could stop him. In that way, he would be protecting you most importantly. For the time being, though, it was better the less you knew.

Ben said in a determined voice, “I won't let anything happen to you,” as he came nearer to you. Despite being too close and yearning to touch you, he refrained from doing so. “I would never let someone hurt you ever again.”

With a heavy heart, you whispered, “The only one who hurt me was you, Ben,” stepping back and creating some distance. Everything you wanted to say to his face was eating you alive, and you felt like you would blow out at any moment. “It seems like you didn't take any lessons from your mistakes, and you're going to make me drown with you again.”

He said, “I made a deal with Butcher,” ignoring your comments as he saw the sorrowful, icy look on your face. “I promised him that I would help him kill Homelander, and he would help me save you. A deal is a deal.”

Ben wanted you to know that he wasn't just going to break his word; in fact, what he was doing was for you. He was so desperate to find you that day that he was willing to kill Vought's top supe and everyone in a heartbeat.

“Since when are you so keen on keeping your word?” You asked in a bitter voice.

Ben was ready to tell you not to think about the past, but he stopped himself because he knew it would hurt and infuriate you even more. Instead, he whispered, “Since right now,” softly, and he slowly stepped forward to confront you. He simply knew it was time to have some conversation. “Look, I know what happened between us in the past wasn't just right, and I wasn't fair to you, but let me fix things.”

Perplexed by his words, you said, “Let you fix things?” Remembering every horrible thing he had done to you, your heart began to rush with hurt and despair, and he was still unable to truly apologize. “Ben, you abandoned me after cheating on me with Crimson. How can you fix something like that? Talking things out can help clear up misunderstandings, but not that.”

He muttered, “I was wrong about everything and about you,” not knowing how to express how he felt. He found it much more difficult to open up when he saw the disappointed and cold expression in your eyes. “I cared about you a lot; I've always had, and now too. I didn’t know back then, but now I do.��

Ben didn't make a single effort to even slightly touch you, but he was too close to touch you again. For an instant, Ben's gaze lingered on your hands, his heart shattered by the longing to embrace and caress you. He never imagined you would be this different, but here you were.

This time, you spoke gently, understanding that Ben was simply too blind to really see the damage that he had caused. “I don't think you'll even understand your actions, Ben,” you murmured.

He opened his lips to say something, but you cut him off right away. “I gave you everything I could, Ben: loyalty, friendship, love, innocence, understanding... I never asked for anything in return. I accepted and loved you as you were.”

You spoke softly, focusing your attention on his deep emerald eyes and hoping he could understand you. “I gave you everything I had, but you kept what we had concealed from everyone, made me feel like I was a rat, and I never once complained—you already know that I supported the choice you made from the start. When you proposed that our connection be kept secret, I mistakenly assumed that you were protecting me from Vought and everyone else. This was foolish of me, and I held onto this belief all the way to the end.”

Ben listened to you with a pained expression as you talked about the things that hurt you the most, finally.

You continued after a little period of silence between you, stating, “You acted as though you cared for me when we first met, when we were by ourselves. You threw me aside when Countess showed up, kicked me from the squad, and then you tried to bring me back. I attempted to make amends for whatever I had done, despite the harm you had done to me, believing that my actions were the cause of your behavior. However, you continued to ignore me, failing to recognize the true colors of her.”

The image of Crimson's face struck Ben's heart with rage. If he had simply killed her on the first day, none of this would have happened.

He whispered, “I know I should have listened to you, I wish I could turn back time,” cutting you off. “But you must know I never loved her.”

Ben was unsure of his feelings for you, but he knew he had never loved Crimson and never felt anything at all for her. All he knew was that he needed you by his side and that he cared passionately for you. Your presence filled his body and soul with warmth and comfort. It didn't matter the name of whatever he felt about you and what you shared; it was something deeper and more special than anything someone could share with another. At least he knew that for sure.

You gently answered in an understanding tone, “I know, Ben,” knowing that he would never cease to love anyone including you.

You came to the realization after all those years that nothing, not even giving your life for him, could win his affection. You used to think that if you gave him everything you had, there would be a way to win his heart. Nevertheless, nothing would be sufficient to win his love.

His gloved fingers, a tiny glimmer of hope in his heart, only lightly touched yours to gauge how comfortable you were with it. “I know I caused you so much pain you never ever deserved, and I'm sorry for everything I have done to you,” in a sincere voice. “But give me a chance to fix everything. All I want is you and your trust.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

“And I forgive you, Ben. For everything you have done,” you sincerely said, giving a nod to him, understanding that there was no going back and that what was done was done. “But my love is gone.”

Next Chapter

A/N: I don’t know how this is even going, but here we are. Kind of feeling insecure and hate writing nowadays to be honest. Comments and reblogs are very appreciated. They keep me going. Take care. “-“

*Losing You series masterlist is here.

Taglist: @mostlymarvelgirl @xmariakx @spnfamily-j2 @suspicious-stain-in-spain @atomicsoulcollecto @yvonneeeee @starryperson @mfnqueen1 @chaand-sitara @boywivlove @stilinskisthings @brynanna @delaynew @yoyoanaria @n-o-p-e-never @ghostslillady @certifiedhaters @deans-spinster-witch @demodemo909 @stoneyggirl2 @cheynovak @libby99hb @moneyburner @jenn-777q @hey-there0-0

Let me know if you want to be tagged for this series. -`♡´-

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy fic #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy x you #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy smut #the boys season 4 #the boys x reader #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles x reader #the boys soldier boy #jensen ackles fic

533 notes · View notes

thefiery-phoenix · 11 months ago

Text

YANDERE SEONGJI YUK HEADCANONS

After he escaped from the grasp of the Shaman and from the Cheonlinag village, he found his solace by himself on the mountain and felt at peace till is peace got disrupted by a ragtag group of unruly teenagers who thought of him as their teacher and decided to stick around him who called themselves the Cheonliang family. Finding love was the LAST thing he ever had on his mind, he was born with an extra finger in his hand and foot was supposedly destined to be the Yaksha for that brat of a Shaman's son Taejin till he decided to say screw it and wanted to forge his own path. For a long time it was just him and the annoying teenagers till you stumbled upon his mountain

It was the night time and the peace and serenity of the night was disrupted by you, whose soft sobs and sniffles echoed through the atmosphere of the night. Seongji came out of his cave slightly annoyed at first that someone was on the mountain but when his eyes landed on you with your tears streaming down your pretty face, your hair strands falling on your face and your hair gently billowing in the gentle breeze as your shirt was almost half torn, his expression softened. You made him feel something, more than he'd ever like to admit. You made him feel something warm...he felt like there was a warm fire lit at the bottom of his stomach and it was a feeling he couldn't explain. However his feelings were something to be bothered about later, right now he felt the urge to comfort you

He strode over to you slowly to not scare you off as he looked at you with a slight frown on his face. Silently without saying anything, his thumb gently brushed against your cheek and wiped your tear as he wrapped his jacket around you. "Why are you so upset...little things like you shouldn't be crying alone this late in the night'' he said as he surveyed your features with his calculating gaze. As you told him the story of how the Shaman almost tried to assault you and tried to rip your clothes off till you escaped from him and he'd sent the members of the Yamazaki clan to get you back, Seongji's eyes narrowed in anger. He felt his rage building up and he wanted nothing more than to just slam that conman of a Shaman's face into a bricked wall and rip out his damn eyes with his Tanghulu rods

He took you to an area where the other students were busy chatting with each other and you spotted five guys wearing sunglasses and the same jackets in the red and black and white colors, a chubby girl with glasses and blonde hair in a judo uniform and another girl with raven hair and was slightly younger than the rest of them. "Oh, someone new, hello" said the blonde chubby girl as she introduced herself as Mary Kim. "We can see she's new dumbass elephant'' said another guy as he scoffed and rolled his eyes as Mary and the guy started bickering with each other. A guy leaned in towards you with a friendly smile on his face. "Sorry about them, they're always like that. The guy she's arguing with is Vinjin by the way, he used to be a sacrifice before our teacher saved him'' said the guy to you as he introduced himself as Jaewoo to you. "Shut up, I could fight on my own you know'' said Vinjin. "Last I remember you started crying and begged me to save you...correct me if I'm wrong and also, I'm not your teacher, you kids really don't have anything better to do in your lives...'' said Seongji as a slight amused smirk formed on his face as Vinjin instantly shut up and grumbled under his breath

You were introduced to the other people as well such as Taebong, Hyungjae, Wooseok and Sujin. Seongji sneaked a few glances at you every now and then as he looked at your nervous behavior. You reminded him of a scared little animal, he found it endearing actually. He handed you a plate of food and when you politely tried to refuse him, his eyes narrowed at you. "Eat. I can see you're exhausted, don't give me all that being polite crap'' he said in a stern tone as he handed you the plate. You started staying with the Cheonliang family after that and grew rather close to them. The first time when you fell asleep, he took in your features and he knew he was staring at you like an idiot but he couldn't help it. You looked so... peaceful and innocent. You did not deserve to go through whatever happened to you. Something in him urged him to protect you and keep you safe and maybe stab the Shaman in the eye one day

Overtime you'll start to realize his feelings for you would become possessive. He realizes his feelings for you are spinning out of control but does he care? Of course not, he wants to keep you safe. However it starts off slowly. He doesn't want you going into the village anymore since he's worried someone might take you away. You're always to be under his gaze where he can keep an eye on you. He'd be damned if Shigeaki Kojima and his lapdogs take you away from him. At first he tries to shove his feelings inside for you deep down. But when you spot him brooding over his thoughts and when you comfort him and hold his rough calloused hands in your ones, it takes him all his self control to not hug you. He's never had anyone compliment his fingers, he was always viewed as a monster. His mind went into a literal overdrive as he slightly blushed for the very first time and looked slightly flustered and embarrassed as he felt his heart hammer against his chest wildly

He's more of a silent observer. He always watches you from the shadows, even though he might look aloof and distant and stoic, deep down he really does care for you, a lot. If you have nightmares he'll sigh softly as he'll run his fingers through your hair gently and awkwardly yet comfortingly pat your head as you'll fall asleep. Don't ask me how but somehow he'll find a way to know whatever you like. Maybe he'll overhear one of his students talking or something and his interest will pique up. Whatever it is that you want, you'll have it. He has obsessive feelings for you but he won't act upon them till the time you're in any kind of danger

One day you were about to go into the village since you needed something and the members of the Yamazaki clan tried to take you away after Taejin wanted you to be his. Seongji seethed and saw red as soon as he heard the news. When he saw the men grabbing you by your hair and making you cry, that's when he felt like he snapped. His anger coursed through him like a burning flame and he felt like things were a blur but within a matter of mere seconds, he managed to knock everyone out. He ruthlessly beat them up and stabbed them with his Tanghulu rods and even stabbed one of them in the eye. Their screams of pain didn't matter to him, they hurt you, they deserved it. A primitive darker side of him filled him with thoughts of just murdering them for good so they'd learn a lesson. However he didn't want to make you scared, you needed to be comforted first

"Why did you leave... I told you I'd give you whatever you want. It's not safe for you to be out on your own anymore. Come on, let's go'' said Seongji to you as he slightly frowned and he lifted you in his arms like a sack of flour and carried you back to the cave. He'll patch up any of your wounds and a sad look will pass on his face if sees any of your injuries though he might hide it. You were almost taken away from him, he can't allow you to do as you please anymore, not when your safety is at stake. He'll ask the others to keep an eye on you as well and you'll bet your allowance they'll IMMEDIATELY snitch on you the first chance they get. Look, they all like you but they like their teacher more and they're loyal to him so... say goodbye to your privacy I guess

Seongji might pretend to be annoyed when he has to deal with you when he's cooking but he secretly loves your company. He hates the thought of someone else stealing you away from him, he's seen the way some men looked at you and it just makes him want to rip their bloody eyes out. He'll deal with your company and presence with a soft smile on his face. If you start getting cheeky and start saying cheesy stuff he'll roll his eyes at you and smirk but he'll be a blushing mess deep down. He has barely any experience when it comes to romance and love but he still wants to take care of you nonetheless

Don't even THINK of trying to escape from him or leave him, he's known as the King of Cheonliang for a reason. If you somehow manage to get out of Cheonliang, he'll have to call his 'friends' for help, his friends being none other than the first generation Kings themselves. While Seongji is not pleased with your escape attempt, he will glare at you in a cold manner and list out all the dangerous possibilities that could have happened to you had your escape attempt been successful. He just wants to love you and protect you, why is that so hard for you to understand? He'll give you the silent treatment and treat you like a naughty kid till you're ready to apologize for your actions in which case he'll embrace you and gently pat your head and tell you how much he loves you and it's all for your own good. If you start throwing a tantrum and kicking at things, he'll just be amused. You remind him of a bratty little child, however if you're crying your eyes and heart out, he'll feel his chest tighten. He doesn't like seeing you cry, he'll just sigh and wipe your tears away but he'll never allow you to leave. You're belong to him and he'll do everything he can to ensure it stays that way...

#yandere lookism characters #yandere lookism characters x reader #yandere lookism x reader #yandere lookism #yandere seongji yuk #yandere seongji yuk x reader #yandere seongji yuk headcanons #yandere seongji yuk oneshots #yandere seongji yuk imagines #yandere seongji yuk scenarios #dark lookism characters #dark lookism x reader #dark lookism characters x reader #dark lookism #lookism headcanons #lookism x reader #lookism

729 notes · View notes

jonathansthickthighs · 8 months ago

Text

My Sweetest Heart 5: Yandere! Fushiguro Toji 𝐱 Reader (Toji’s POV)

Description: You had a one night stand with Toji and now he won’t leave you alone.

Warnings: yandere, obsessive behavior, female reader, toxic behavior, DARK CONTENT, GORE (slight), murder, jealousy, possessive behavior, stalking, desperate toji, slight smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up), mentions of baby trapping, breeding kink?, daddy kink, masturbation, alternative universe (no curses), age gap (reader is in her early 20’s, toji is in his mid 30’s)

A/N: Greetings, reader. I wanna thank you for all the love you showed this mini series, I really really appreciate it <3. Without further ado, here is the final chapter! It’s a little different as it is written completely in Toji’s POV and it’s also slightly darker that the previous ones, so read at your own risk! Hope you enjoy :)

Italics = flashbacks

NOT EDITED!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Masterlist

You’re mine.

The instant my eyes landed on you, I knew that was my destiny— the sole purpose for my existence in this floating sphere we call Earth. From that fateful night onward, I became aware. I became aware of what a man truly in love is capable of. All things suddenly made sense, and I felt everything. The gentle breeze caressing my skin was almost like an imitation of your soft hand running through my tough-to-the touch skin. The sun kissing my face with the same passion as your tender lips. Those romance movies and novels I once detested now played endlessly in my mind, imagining it was us, living our own life as a happy couple.

You make me vulnerable.

Vulnerability used to be such a foreign feeling to me, not even experiencing it as a child. It makes me feel weak— you make me weak. But I’ve learned to accept this newfound fragility because I love you. This vulnerability, it’s truly a disconcerting sensation, like exposing an unarmored heart to the world— to you. You’re my world. You’ve taught me more about life than I could have ever imagine, something I wouldn’t expect from someone so young. At your age, I was nothing more than an ignorant boy who didn’t understand or cared about anything. Yet, in your presence, I’ve come to see vulnerability as a strength. Loving you has taught me that this feeling is not about weakness, but about trust and intimacy. Allowing you to see the depths of my soul and getting the same in return from you has made me find solace in those moments. I now embrace the beautiful feeling of vulnerability because thanks to you, it makes me feel like the strongest man alive.

I know I have one or two… loose screws.

I can be an incredibly jealous and territorial man when it comes to you. Insecurity floods my mind at any minimum interaction you have with a man, in particular men your age. No matter how much you reassured me on your desire to only be with me and my age not being an issue to you, there was always a little voice in my head that made me erupt. I know you had lost count of how many times I had caused a scene in public, getting all up in the other man’s face with threats of violence. You’d barely manage to drag me with out of the place, apologizing profusely as you begged the owners to not call the police on your problematic boyfriend. Remember those times? I’m deeply sorry, sweetheart, I’m aware of how much I embarrassed you. It wasn’t my intention, but each occasion I would spot a man eyeing you up, I couldn’t control myself from going ballistic. You are every man’s dream, a vision of beauty too pure for this ugly world. That’s why I can’t let them have you— I’m just trying to protect you.

Even when you didn’t like situations I put you in, I am certain you loved the aftermath. Pistoling my thick cock in your heavenly hole, claiming what’s mine always made my jealousy and insecurities dissipate. Your scream and moans only confirmed how much you enjoyed giving yourself to me. Make up sex with you was so intense and passionate, it almost made me want to start fights with you constantly. Your slick juices coating my cock was evidence of your arousal. You loved make up sex as much as I did. I can’t help myself from remembering how many times you moaned into my ear that me you belonged only to me, making my heart leap in joy. I stay up night after night reminiscing in those precious moments, those are memories I will always hold close to my heart and continue to long for.

“F-fuck me! This pussy is yours, Toji! I belong to you, only you!” Your whines were muffled by my hand placed on the side of your face, pressing your head into the mattress, thrusting my cock into your dripping cunt from behind. The way you moaned my name, telling me you were mine making my cock throb from the overbearing arousal. You could never fully grasp how you make me feel because it transcends anything this world could offer. It’s something beyond words, beyond earthly experiences, as if it belongs to a place untouched by time and space.

“You better not be lying to me, sweetheart. No other man can have you like this, this pretty little hole was made for my cock only!” Delivering a harsh slap to your ass, I could feel myself getting riled up at the imagine of another man seeing you in this position. It wasn’t your fault men wouldn’t stop throwing themselves at you, but I just wish you weren’t so fucking nice about it. Your kindness only encourages them and it makes me sick. It makes me feel like you like the attention and I’m not here for it. All your attention should be on me!

I continued spanking your now sore globes, hearing you let out whimpers, not able to identify if they’re from pain, pleasure or a mixture of both. I was so angry at you I couldn’t bring myself to care. I wanted to hurt you like you hurt me. “Toji, I’m not lying. I’m only yours. P-please!” You sobbed and I felt my heart drop when I saw actual tears falling from your eyes. This is were I draw the line, if there was something I couldn’t stand was seeing you cry. Forcing myself to stop, I removed my hand from the side of your face to wipe your tears away gently, calling your name.

“No! Don’t stop! It feels s’good, Toji!” My eyes widened briefly, but I couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped my lips. You were crying from pleasure. As much as I hate to see you cry, I can’t keep myself from thinking about how absolutely beautiful you look when you do. The way your skin glows, your eyes sparkle and your lips puff up is like a work of art. An art piece of incalculable value that nobody but me can admire.

“What a fucking slut. You like -hah- being punished don’t you, baby? You like being used by me.” I hissed as I started thrusting into your tight pussy fast and hard, loving the way your ass bounced with each rough stroke I gave you. Grabbing a fistful of your hair, your ass received another firm slap from my hand, making you cry out as your cunt clenched around me. Gods, your pussy is delicious. Nothing felt better than you. Our first night solidified our bond, the connection between us felt so strong I thought it to be impossible for you to not feel the same way.

I could tell by your constant clenching that you were going to release your delectable nectar all over my pulsing cock, which made a wave of relief wash over me as I’d been holding my own release from the moment I felt your slickness engulf me. I absolutely love coming inside you, but it’s a shame you’re on birth control. Those damn pills never cease to piss me off. My intention from the first time we had sex was to impregnate you. It mortifies me to admit that one of the main reasons I came inside you so many times that night was in hopes of baby trapping you so I’d be in your life one way or another, but now that you’re my woman I truly desire to become a father for reasons beyond tying you to me for life. I want to have a family with you.

“Are you gonna let me put a baby in you, huh, sweetheart?” I dare to ask you as I move my hand down to play with your swollen clit because I know how much you love it when I do.

“Yes, daddy! Please, fill me up.” I couldn’t stop my eyes from rolling back from the pleasure, you’re just so good to me. I knew your answer wouldn’t be as positive if my dick wasn’t inside you, but I enjoy the way you feed into my delusions when I’m fucking you, knowing you’d say yes to anything I ask as long as I’m rearranging your insides. Your little plea was all it took for me to paint your insides white, releasing rope after rope of semen hoping that this time you’d be part of that 0.1% of the cases where birth control fails. I felt you coming around me, milking me of all I had, squeezing me so tightly I felt as if I might be trapped inside you forever.

“I love you so much, Toji.”

You broke up with me.

The way you told me you loved me replayed in my mind every hour of every day since that moment. For the first time in my life, I cried. I cried in front of you, raw and vulnerable, and I begged you not to leave me. Despite my tears and pleas, you still walked away, leaving me with a hole in my chest. It’s a cold world, but I’d be lying if I said didn’t drive you to this point.

You found out. About everything.

You hadn’t heard from your friends in months and you weren’t aware of their reasoning for ignoring you so cruelly. You noticed they had blocked you, noticing your messages weren’t going through, the same as your calls. I knew you were thinking to yourself if ditching them a few times good enough reason for them to kick you out of their lives like you meant nothing to them. Years of friendship and memories down the drain because something as insignificant as this. It made you ponder if only you had managed your time more wisely maybe you would’ve still had their friendship.

I listened to you vent about it, trying to understand what you did to deserve this treatment. I was your shoulder to cry on. I had been nothing more than supportive towards you. In a matter of a few months I became your unconditional companion, the greatest reason for your happiness. I could tell you were developing an emotional dependence on me and I knew it startled you, but I liked it. Having you depend on me gave you another reason to not leave me and I would rely on that for as long as I could.

In spite of your growing dependency on me, you felt our love was too good to be true and that’s when you started digging.

You ran into one of your former best friends at the store and despite her efforts to avoid you, your feet strode towards her with unyielding determination and you confronted her. You could tell she was nervous. She had all the reasons to be. After our phone call, I decided that wasn’t enough to keep her away, so I had one of my… “coworkers” pay her a little visit, but only to give her a scare. Nothing serious, only a threat to end her life if she did as much as look in your direction. She’s a bad influence to you, doll, and you know it. Always going out clubbing, encouraging you to talk to men and to let them put their dirty hands on you. Always telling you that there’s nothing wrong with wearing revealing clothes in public like you’re some common whore. You know I don’t like it when you show off what’s supposed to be preserved for my eyes only. I can’t allow that type of friendship. Don’t you understand that’s how relationships get ruined? I’m just trying to protect you.

With hesitation, your best friend spoke to you, her fists gripping the handle of the shopping cart tightly. Her face twisted with pain as she began to speak, her words seemingly causing her physical discomfort. She told you everything, and you stood there, a perplexed expression on your face, unable to believe a words she uttered. You yelled at her for even attempting to tarnish my image in such way, and you have no idea how happy that made me. Yet, despite your anger, the hairs in your skin stood on end, a silent signal from your intuition urging you to believe her.

Remember the shaken feeling you got when I grabbed you by the hair the morning after we first made love, sweetheart? That’s exactly how you felt this very moment. But to my benefit, you were in denial. I knew she’d be a problem from the start and after all my efforts, she keeps getting in the way of our love. That stupid bitch. She went as far as telling you, through tears, that she feared for your life. As if I would do anything to hurt you. She even suggested fleeing from Japan with her. The mere thought filled me with simmering rage. I would never allow such a thing, and you were ever to disappear from my life because of her fault, I would search every corner of the globe, every hidden crevice, until I found you.

You stormed out of the store feeling agitated, trying to control your breath. I could tell you wanted nothing more than to stomp into my place to yell and scream at me, but to my surprise, you were calm when you arrived. You were so serene it was almost frightening.

That night you let me have my way with you, but it was different. The usual sparkle in your eye had vanished, replaced by a lifeless, hollow stare— I could barely get a moan out of you.

“Sweetheart, you seem out of it tonight. Is everything all right?”

I inquired, stopping my thrusts, concerned about your lack of emotion. I had always been able to read you, but this time I couldn’t decipher your thoughts. The only thing that I could think of was that you believed your best friend’s words, but what were you thinking about doing about it? Your confrontational nature had fooled me into thinking you’d touch the topic with me right away, but the way you were so inside your thoughts made anxiety bubble up inside me.

“I’m fine, Toji. I’m just tired. Let’s keep going.” You answered offering me a smile, but the smile didn’t reach your eyes like it usually did.

I can’t explain why I kept going, but I did. You started moaning, but to me—someone who has made you moan like a bitch in heat innumerable times— it was obvious they were fake moans. I could feel my body trembling from a mixture of pleasure and apprehension and I came inside you the same way I did every night. You didn’t orgasm that night. All you did was wait for me to roll off you as I held you with my face buried in your neck. I held you like it’d be our last night together. As soon as I moved away from you warm body, you rushed to the bathroom to take a shower as if you were disgusted about giving yourself to me.

“I love you, sweetheart.” I hesitantly said as I got up to walk after you, but the only answer I got was a door slammed in my face.

That night, I should have held you longer.

Hours turned into days, days turned into a week without a single word from you. My phone became a repository of unanswered texts and calls, each one a silent plea for your return. I wandered past your house, hoping to catch a glimpse of you, but it stood empty. Your absence was haunting me. No physical or mental torture I had endured compared to the pain I felt. Thoughts invaded my mind, did you actually go along with your friends’ plan and fled the country? Noticing all of your important belongings were still at your place, that couldn’t be a possibility.

I sighed deeply as I lay on your bed, the familiar scent of your shampoo enveloping me as the aroma clung to your pillows. I let my eyelids fall shut reminiscing in all the nights we spent together on this very bed, in particular our first. I couldn’t stop my cock from hardening at the combination of your scent and the memories. My eyes landed on your laundry basket, a black thong catching my attention. I recall the time you wore it for me, you looked absolutely immaculate in this little piece. I rose from the bed making my way towards it, gripping it tightly in my fist as I brought it up to my nose. My cock twitched as the ghost of your scent still lingered on it. This brought back old memories of the times I broke into your apartment before you even knew of my existence. All the countless times I sprawled myself on your bed, messing up your bedsheets as I masturbated to your scent. All those times I would orgasm merely from the feeling of your silky sheets on my bare cock as I would grind my hips against them.

I fell back on your bed as I continued to inhale what was left of your scent, feeling the tent in my sweatpants grow larger. Biting my lip, I pulled the waistband down, feeling relief as my erection sprung free from its retrains. I let out a shaky breath as I gripped the base of my cock. I missed you so much, going a week without seeing you, hearing your voice— a week without your touch, had been excruciating.

I stroked my cock slowly, trying to mimic the way you would tease me. “P-please, sweetheart. I n-need you.” I beseeched into the air, hoping that would make you somehow grace me with your presence. I proceeded to pump myself faster, using the precum that was accumulating on my swollen tip as lubricant, making my cock slick and shiny— only a mere imitation of how your juices coated it.

Running my tongue over the spot where your scent lingered, I squeezed the base of my cock to prevent myself from coming already. “I need to taste you, baby. Please, please, please.” I felt pathetic having to recur to these methods again, but the desperation you caused in me was mind-boggling. The stimulation was too much for me, I couldn’t hold it anymore. I removed your underwear from my face before I started stroking my cock with them, feeling it pulse, knowing those panties that were now touching my member, were once so close to your pretty cunt.

“Please, come back to me.” Wincing, I felt my cock throb painfully, my tone laced with exasperation. Salty tears welled my weary orbs, each drop a testament to the growing ache of your absence. The pain of not having you with me becoming unbearable with every passing moment. I can no longer endure not having you. It was in this moment that I saw clarity, I deemed taking drastic measures necessary if I wanted to hold you in my arms once more.

“F-fuck, baby. I’m gonna come! You gon’ take daddy’s cum?” I whimpered, feeling like my cock was about to burst from excitement. My movements were lacking coordination at this point and I rutted into my hand as my cum started tainting your panties, shivering as my toes curled at the delightful sensation something as simple as your underwear brought to me. Clinging to your sheets, I breathe as I attempt to control my breath, feeling my remaining tears subside.

As I continued to lay there I started getting flashbacks from our last day together. The day our relationship ended.

“We need to talk.” Your voice echoed through the room the moment you stepped into my place, and my heart leaped, its rhythm quickened with the weight of impending confrontation. You were finally ready to address what had happened at the store with your best friend. I had been dreading this moment, enduring all these agonizing days of anxiety. It was clear you had reached the end of your patience, unwilling to bear the mental turmoil any longer.

I cleared my throat, striving to make my voice sound firm as I feigning ignorance. “What’s on your mind, sweetheart?” I asked, summoning the courage to meet your face. My heart burned at the sight of your distressed expression on your face. I was so accustomed to seeing you always smiling so prettily at me that the contrast was a reminder of how big of a mistake I made. Perhaps I should’ve found a more subtle way to drive you away from your friends without causing this heartache.

You glared at me as you took a seat at the dining table, and I swallowed hard, sitting across from you. “Never did it ever cross my mind that I would have a conversation like this with you Toji.” You began, a deep sigh escaping your lips as you laced your fingers together in front of you. The disappointment and anger in your tone cut deep, but remained quiet as I allowed you to continue.

“You saw me cry and complain day after day about my friends and you knew. You knew the reason they stayed away from me, yet you still let me suffer.” You let out, your voice trembling with emotion.

“Sweetheart—“

“Shut the fuck up and listen to me. You’re not allowed to utter another word until I am done talking!” You demanded, raising your voice. My eyes widened in astonishment, for you had never spoken to me in that tone before. The look of betrayal on your face was unmistakable, and I knew it was all my fault.

“She told me everything you said to her that day on the phone, Toji. And you sent someone to threaten her too?! Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you?!” You exclaimed, disbelief etched across your face. I couldn’t meet your gaze, my eyes falling to the floor. I couldn’t bear to see the hurt on your usually bright expression. “Gosh, you can’t even look at me. I didn’t want to believe it, but the way you look right now is proof enough for me.” You laughed bitterly, shaking your head.

“And if that wasn’t enough, you already knew that I knew!” My mouth was agape. As those words left your lips, my heart plummeted to my stomach, and I was sure I looked like a deer caught in headlights.

What?

No, no, no.

“Don’t fucking look at me like that, sweetheart. You though you were so slick, didn’t you?” You spat, running a hand through your hair in frustration before continuing. “I saw you, Toji! You were following me and I know you heard our conversation. You knew I was aware of what you had done and fucked me right after I got home from the store like nothing even happened!” By now, you were full on sobbing and I felt a foreign tightness on my throat, as if it was closing up, making it hard to breathe.

It literally felt like a knot in my throat.

Wait, why does my face feel wet?

My eyes felt like they were burning. Salty tears were cascading down my cheeks as my chest tightened, each breath shallow and uneven. I could feel my face contorting with a mix of surprise and agony, muscles twitching involuntarily. After failed attempts to stifle the sob that rose from the deep within, it escaped. I felt a hollow ache in my throat and all I could see was a blurry image of you.

For the first time in my life I was crying.

“Really? You’re crying? This isn’t the first time you’ve followed me has it, Toji?” You inquired, a painful expression painted in your tear stained face. I couldn't keep lying to you any longer and I would most likely regret admitting to this, but I did. All I could manage to do was shake my head, making you burry your face in your hands as more sobs were released from deep within your chest.

“Fuck! How many times? How long?” You questioned, rising to your feet, slamming your hand against the table. I shook my head, refusing to answer as I bit my lips to prevent more cries to leave my lips. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I could only pray this was all a nightmare and that I would wake up from this torment in the morning with you cuddled up in my arms.

“Answer me! How. Long.”

I gulped hard, before mustering up the courage to say, “A while.”

You ran a hand over your face, before taking a deep breath. “W-what does that mean? How long exactly is “a while”?”

“A c-couple of months before we met—“

“Before we met?!” You jaw slacked, and you regarded me as though I hailed from another realm entirely. This entire ordeal forces me to entertain the notion that abducting you might have been a more merciful path to our togetherness. Initially challenging, yes, but eventually, Stockholm Syndrome would set in, and you would come to love me… wouldn’t you?

“Y-you’re t-telling me that night we met at the b-bar, wasn’t the our f-first time meeting?” You stuttered, nerves overtaking your body. Why did you look so scared of me? Hadn’t you realized by now I would never do anything to harm you? At least not intentionally.

All I did was shake my head before I standing from my seat, striding toward you. Your tear-filled eyes widened with fear as my towering figure loomed over you. You instinctively stepped back bumping into the kitchen counter, clutching the edges of it so tightly your knuckles paled.

“Sweetheart, there’s no need to be afraid of me.” I started gently, cupping your face in my large hand, eliciting a whimper from you. “Everything I’ve done, I’ve done out of love.” And it was true. I knew I’d do anything to keep you by my side, feeling loved, cared for and protected.

“P-please, stop touching me, Toji.” You pleaded, your voice barely audible.

“Don’t ask me that, sweetheart. You’re breaking my heart.” I responded, my voice heavy with emotion. “At one point of my life, I felt undeserving of your love. I thought such an angelic, beautiful creature would never notice a scum such as myself. But that night at the bar, you approached me! You actually came to me! Oh, baby, I was over the moon.” I confessed, a tearful smile gracing my face as I recalled that pivotal moment.

“I knew from that day on that we were meant to be. My feelings weren’t one-sided, sweetheart. You love me just deeply as I love you.” You regarded me with a look that might have seemed incredulous to others, but I didn’t mind. I would do anything to be grazed upon by those breathtaking eyes wether they held love, hate, fear, or disgust— it didn’t matter, as long as they were fixed on me.

“No. No! Let go of me, you fucking creep!” Your sobs echoed through the room as you pounded on my chest, but I refused to release you, even when my heart ached from your insult. Wrapping my arms around your trembling form tightly, I pulled you closer, my grip firm. With a desperate resolve, I sank to my knees, unwilling to let you slip without a fight. If I had to beg for you to stay I would as much as necessary. Every line in your face contorted with pain, your eyes filled with tears that mirrored my own desperation.

“Please, sweetheart. Don’t leave me.” I pleaded, lifting my gaze to meet your grimacing expression.

Without warning, you swung a bottle of Sake from the countertop, striking me across the head with a resounding crack. Stunned and reeling from the blow, I staggered back, momentarily disoriented by the unexpected violence in your part. You fled, sprinting towards the door in a blur of motion and fear, leaving me behind.

I sighed heavily, sitting up on your bed as I rubbed my tired eyes. The events of that day kept replaying relentlessly in my mind, each replay sharpening the ache of uncertainty. You still didn’t know the truth about my occupation, and that haunted me. If you reacted so vehemently to me stalking you, I shudder to imagine your response if you discovered the full extent of my actions. How would you react to me being an assassin? How would you confront the revelation that I was not only stalking you, but taking lives for you, eliminating obstacles in our path to being together?

For now, there’s no need for you to know that information.

I am going to fix this.

Fix us.

I have to say, sweetheart, you really did a number on me with this one.

Who would’ve thought you’d be my most challenging bounty? Two whole weeks— that’s how long it took me to find you. Never in my life had I spent this long perusing a target, but it’s all right, I enjoyed the chase. I felt adrenaline I hadn’t felt in years, a blend of anticipation and thrill surged through me with each lead I followed. Each time I felt closer to you, my body vibrated in excitement. Even amidst my longing for you, the thought of even spotting you from afar felt invigorating.

Now that I found you there was no way I would allow anyone to separate us. Anyone including you.

You were currently passed out in the motel bed while I stood by the window smoking. The soft glow of your phone illuminated the room as I scrolled through your debit card statements, I noticed you had been hopping from one motel to another. Each entry told a story of desperation and fear, a relentless effort to escape from me. A pang of hurt pierced through me as I realized the extent of your actions. You were really spending all of your savings to get away from me? I had believe, perhaps naively, that you harbored genuine feelings for me. Yet, here was the undeniable proof of your running, of your desire to sever our bond.

It seems I was wrong. Love wasn’t something you felt for me, at least not yet. If you didn’t surrender your heart to me willingly, then I would have to take matters into my own hands.

Next to you, on the nightstand, I had bestowed a wonderful gift for you.

Your best friends’ severed little head.

In my desperation, I had gone to her apartment, to try to get information about you out of her. Yet that bitch kept refusing and refusing to cooperate. Each denial chipped away at my patience until there was none left. When it became clear that persuasion was futile, she left me no choice but to break into her apartment to get the information myself. Seething at the lengths I had to go to because of her obstinance, I rummaged through her belongings and electronic until I found a train booking to a town around two hours away when I looked through her laptop. It was definitely for you as it had been forwarded to your email. Dumb bitch.

That woman had an uncanny talent to get under my skin, so I got under hers. Literally.

Doll, if I told you I enjoyed making your friend scream in terror, it would be an understatement. I’m a man of my word. She knew what would go down if she ever came in contact with you again. I’m merely fulfilling my promise. I do have to admit that cleaning up the mess was a pain in the ass, but I withstood it— for you. I’m not even sorry for what you’re about to witness, it was time for you to see the real me. I tried to be better for you, sweetheart, I really did, but if m being honest, you bring out the worst in me. And I love it.

I wasn’t born to be good and you weren’t born to change that. Our fates were intertwined in a dance of contrast, but expecting you to turn me towards light was a fool’s errand. I am who I am and no one— no matter how pure— could change that. I can only wish for your acceptance and comprehension. No matter what you chose to feel for me, I would keep you by my side and show you the same love I always have. Because you’re the only thing I love in this wretched world.

I heard you begin to stir awake, small whimpers leaving your lips as the effects of the drug I had administered you started to fade away. A smirk crept across my face, flicking the remains of my cigarette out the window before striding to were you lay. You squeezed your eyes before slowly opening them, and I couldn’t stop my heart from surging with joy as our eyes met for the first time in weeks. Gods, I missed you.

Your eyes widened when they met mine, and you instinctively crawled back towards the headboard of the bed.

“Mornin’, sleepy head. Slept well?” I questioned as I watched you trying to writhe yourself out of the bed, bumping into the night stand making your friends’ head flop to the ground. Your eyes widened impossibly further and you let out a high pitched scream, covering your mouth with both your hands. “Sweetheart, you need to be more careful. I got this gift just for you and now it’s on the floor.” I tskd before lifting the head up by the hair, dangling it in front of you.

Harsh sobs started escaping your lips as you realized who it was.

“Why are you crying, doll? Don’t you like it?” I asked, feigning disappointment. You shut your eyes and I could tell you were praying this was all a nightmare, but I’m not a nightmare. I’m real and I’m here to stay with you. “Come one, settle down now, baby. You wouldn’t want anyone else to end up like her, do you?” You immediately shook your head. “Yeah that’s what’s I thought.” I said through a chuckle, before setting down the head on the nightstand once again. I sat down on the edge of the bed, itching closer to your trembling form. My hands reached out, cupping your tear stained cheeks. Your skin felt cold and damp beneath my touch.

“W-why a-are you d-doing this, Toji?” You stammered, your voice trembling with horror. You hugged your knees to your chest, trying to create some semblance of a barrier between us, your eyes wide and pleading for an explanation.

“Sweetheart, everything I’ve done for you is because I love you.” I explained softly, my voice laced with the usual tenderness I always addressed you with. “In order to protect our love I’ve been forced to turnt to these measures. It’s the only way to keep us together, to ensure that nothing and no one can come between us!” You were shaking your head in disbelief and I could tell you were starting to feel nauseous. Guilt started washing over me as I realized what I had just made you go through, so I offered you a sincere smile before saying, “I’m so sorry, I promise I’ll get rid of it and she’ll be out of our sight forever.”

I planted a gentle kiss on your cheek, savoring the moment as I inhaled your intoxicating scent as I lingered there. I had never forgotten how addicting it was. A fragrance I had never forgotten, one that was engraved into my memory and haunted my dreams when you weren’t there. Every thing about you was intoxicating and if you were going to be the death of me, I would gladly allow you to kill me. If loving you meant risking everything, even my own demise, then I embraced that fate with no hesitation.

You are my addiction, my sweetest vice, my sweetest heart, and I willingly surrender to your enchantment. For in your arms, I found a love worth any sacrifice.

I grabbed you by the hair just like I did on our first night together, but this time with a firm grip. “Now, Reader, I’m gonna need you to make a decision.”

Are you going to choose to love me or am I gonna have to force you?

450 notes · View notes

rafesbabygirlx · 3 months ago

Text

Take it Out on Me - Rafe x fwb!reader

✰Masterlist✰

Warnings: infidelity (Rafe on Sofia), smut

Rafe Cameron, a man with a tormented soul trying to do something good for his future, just discovered Hollis and Groff screwed him out of his money, and that Sofia had betrayed him. The weight of the world bore down on him, and the fury still coursing through his veins threatened to consume him. Frustration and desperation bubbled just beneath the surface, seeking an outlet for its pent-up energy. You were in your room, deciding to stay in because of the storm that was passing over OBX that night. What you weren't expecting was a soaking wet Rafe to show up in your room.

As he entered your room, his eyes immediately locked onto you, the only constant in his tumultuous life. His best friend, the only person who stood by him his entire life. You’ve hooked up in the past, but were hurt when he began to date Sofia and seemingly shut you out of his life for the girl. He had the desire to lose himself in you, to find solace in your arms, and it was overpowering. He crossed the distance between you as you stood from your bed, his movements abrupt and clipped, as if he couldn't bear to be apart from you for another moment.”Rafe…” you let out in a subtle whisper.

He said nothing as his hands roamed your body with a desperate urgency, as if trying to touch every inch of you at once. He traced the curves of your hips, the gentle swell of your breasts, the delicate skin of your neck. Each touch sent shivers down your spine, your body responding to his rough caresses with an intensity you'd never experienced before. His lips, bruising and possessive, left their mark on your skin, a symbol of his all-consuming need. He kissed your lips with a passion that left you breathless, his tongue probing deep within your mouth as he sought to claim you as his own. “Rafe, say something please.”

“It should've been you. It should have always been you. Fuck, i love you.” You're confused but before you can reply he rips your shirt off and shoves down onto your fluffy white comforter taking your sleep shorts off next.

“Rafe, talk to me.” You plead with him. It’s been months since you’ve seen him.

”After, I promise.” he finally speaks

He takes his clothes off just as quickly as he did yours. Settling in between you. You pull his head up to yours to focus on his eyes for a second. You examine his expression, it's a mix of sadness and anger. Your eyes linger on his for a bit longer, then you pull him in to give him a kiss. A kiss he turns passionate again. It’s fueled by a deep fire. Amidst the kiss, he spreads your legs out lining his hard cock up to your entrance. “Fill me”, you whisper into his mouth. In one swift movement he bottoms out in you. Wasting no time to move.

The rough thrusts of his body, driven by his anger and the feeling of stupidity, shook the very foundations of your being. Each plunge deeper into your warmth brought a new wave of pleasure, your body arching to meet his every advance. The intensity of the moment threatened to consume you, leaving you breathless and spent in its wake.

As he buried himself deep within you, he sought solace in the heat of the moment. His body moved with a reckless abandon, a healing release of the emotions he'd been holding back for so long. His eyes burned with a fierce intensity, his gaze locked onto yours as he lost himself in the moment. You usually have to fight keeping your eyes open, but something about everything that's happening causes you to lock your gaze right back. He realized the mistake he made when he looked deep into your eyes. How could he take you for granted and leave you in the dust when he thought he found someone to help him. It was always you who took care of him.

His fingers dug into your hips, his nails biting into your flesh as he claimed you as his own. You gasped with pleasure, your body responding to his touch with an intensity you'd never felt before. The roughness of his hands, the force of his kisses, the intensity of his passion all combined to create a sensation that was both painful and exhilarating. You and Rafe always messed around when the two of you were bored but this is so different. You couldn’t understand, you haven't talked in months. Where was Sofia? What happened between the two of them?

Pulling you up by your neck, he lifted you up and around his waist, still deep inside you. The sensation of his hardness stretching your intimate folds sent shivers down your spine, your body already responding to his touch with an intensity you'd never experienced before.

He walked you over to the wall, his grip on your hair firm but not painful, his eyes burning with a fierce intensity. With a swift motion, he placed you back on the ground, flipping you around and forcing you to arch your back as he shoved you up against the wall. “Rafe, please…” you trail off and he plunges back into you.

One hand gripped your hip, holding you in place as he thrusted deep within you. The other had your hair in a makeshift pony, pulling your head back to look at him. The sound of the passion filled the room, the air thick with the scent of their lust. His grunts of pleasure echoed through the space, his body slamming into yours with a ferocity that left you breathless.

The intensity of the moment threatened to consume you, the roughness of his touch sending shivers down your spine. You could feel his heartbeat pounding against your back, his body tense with desire. His breath whispered into your ear, hot and heavy, as he whispered filthy, dirty words that left you trembling with anticipation. “Fuck, i missed this pussy.”

You moan loudly at his words. He continues his punishing thrusts. “You would never fuck me over like that, huh?”

“What?” You try to turn your head around to look at him, being very confused by his question. But he’s too quick and yanks your hair to keep you straight.

“Tell. Me. You. Would Never hurt me,” Rafe speaks out in between thrusts.

“Never Rafe,” You barely get out.

As Rafe's body slammed into yours, he groaned with pleasure, his voice low and husky. "Good, that's good baby, fuck your clenching me good." His words sent shivers down your spine, his raw desire infecting you with its intensity.

His grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your skin as he thrust deeper into your warmth. You could feel your muscles clenching around him, the sensation of him filling you completely sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"Come for me," he whispered into your ear, his breath hot and heavy. His words were a command, a demand that you could not refuse. Your body began to tremble, the intensity of the moment threatening to consume you.

As he continued to thrust into you, the pleasure built to a peak, your senses heightened to the point of overload. You could feel your orgasm approaching, the sensation building deep within your core.

And then, it hit you. A wave of pure ecstasy washed over you, your body convulsing with the force of your release. Your screams of pleasure filled the room, your voice hoarse from the intensity of your climax.

As he found his release, his body shuddering with the force of his orgasm, he whispered promises of things to come that left you quivering with need. The room was filled with the sound of their passion, the air thick with the scent of their lust. In that moment, nothing else existed but the two of you, lost in the heat of the moment.

In the aftermath, as the storm raged on outside, you moved to your closet to find some of Rafe’s sleepwear you still stored in a bottom drawer. He moved to your bathroom to grab a warm washcloth. He kneeled in front of you to clean you up as you pulled one of his shirts over your head and passed him his sweatpants. You both moved to the bed together.

Rafe cradled you in his arms, his body still trembling with the aftershocks of their passion. His eyes locked onto yours, filled with a mix of remorse and relief. The intensity of the moment had left its mark on both of you, a mark that would bind you together, a testament to the passion that had ignited between you. And as the world outside began to fade into the distance, you knew that you were safe, wrapped in the arms of the one man who could save you from yourself. “I’m sorry, I’m fucking done with her. And I’m sorry it took me so long to see who was meant for me.”

.⭒☆━━━━━━━━━✰━━━━━━━━━☆⭒.

Taglist:

(click the link to join)

@rafestoothbrush @weluvwbb @itsforeverandalwayz @butterfly-ibuki

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #outerbanks rafe #rafe smut #rafe x fwb!reader #netflix #outerbanks #outer banks

155 notes · View notes

wutheringcaterpillar · 1 year ago

Note

Tommy Shelby convincing his wife to stop being angry at him after an argument

Thank you again so much!

warnings: Reader is insecure and Tom is an ass still learning to love, fluff

“I’m not angry, I’m livid Thomas! You completely embarrassed me tonight, and had the audacity to place me at a dinner table with a woman that wants to fuck my husband!” He rolled his eyes carelessly, fully understanding why you were upset but denying the simple state of your feelings before raising his voice. “Maybe you would have understood had your simple mind set aside your inner personal problems and not been consumed by a ridiculous, saddening amount of jealousy!” You jaw dropped in astonishment at what he had said, before your anger mixed into sadness. Whipping your head around, you rushed out of the room, finding yourself taking solace in the bedroom.

He followed you, brushing his hand down his face in worry as he knew he had gone too far. You were just a delicate little thing that knew close to nothing about business but he hadn’t intended for her to be there at the meeting.

When he walked through the door and saw you sitting on the disheveled sheets, weeping into you palms, he knew he had gone too far and shouldn’t have raised his voice at you.

He knew you were a delicate little thing that could be insecure just based off of the previous women he had been involved with. Not only were they beautiful, but they also knew how to bargain and handle business affairs. But he had never, ever intended to throw your worries and concerns in your face in such a manner. He loved you deeply and was still learning how to show you, how to respect your boundaries. In his eyes you were his rock, the most beautiful woman in the world whom always treated him with such kindness and patience.

Taking his seat next to you on the mattress, he slowly attempted to place his arm around you but you nudged him away, not wanting a single thing to do with him at this very moment.

Sighing, his eyes scanned the room, contemplating the best way to handle this without screwing it up.

When he spoke, it was with sincerity, his voice was as soft as a loving dove. “Y/N, I didn’t mean to say that. With business comes hardships and we will fight. We will be mad at each other, most likely because of myself.” He heard you chuckle lightly through the tears, catching his attention.

“But I truly did not know she would be attending and I should have told you of her intentions.” Your cries were beginning to simmer down when you found the courage to turn toward him, staring into his blue eyes that radiated kindness, no anger apparent.

When he saw you tear-stained face he wanted to kick himself, to rewind and wish he had never even arranged this business deal at the expense of your feelings. His eyebrows furrowed together, his thumb tracing away your tears as his lips pursed together in regret.

“She smirked at me Thomas… She blatantly said to me in the kitchen she would win you over, she told me I was just a chess piece in a game I’d never understand nor win.” Thomas hadn’t known that, if he did he would’ve thrown them out of your home, had the whore walking home in fear for her life, taking everything from her in just a matter of minutes, completely demolishing any confidence or thought that she would have a chance with him.

His hand clenched together in anger while he tried to avoid becoming more aggressive than he had already been tonight. It was one thing to disrespect him, but you were far more important, and far more vulnerable at times than he was and he drew a line when it came to anyone speaking to his beloved wife in such disgust manner.

“Believe me when I say, this deal is off and you won’t ever see her again. The dumb blonde was talking out of her ass, and I will not stand for someone disrespecting my wife. She could never compete with my strong, loving, overly attractive Y/N. No woman would ever come between us my darling. Nonetheless, you are my rock, and have put up with the darkest sides of me and still choose to stand by me as I do you and that will never change my love.” A small smile formed on your face while the anger, and hatred in the room seemed to fade out, and simmer down.

Pulling you into his arms, you nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck, the warmth of his skin and the smell of cigarettes bringing immense comfort to your body, causing your bones to relax and not be so stiff and full of tension anymore.

He held you tight, rubbing slow circles over your back as he felt your breathing become more subtle and on track. From this moment forward he knew he had to do better, he didn’t want to imagine a life without you in it, he wouldn’t.

He had never felt so lucky to have you, and was still trying to change his ways for you, even if it was the slightest amount just to keep you near and dear at his side, just where had had wanted you. Placing a soft, chaste kiss to your silky, delicate skin as he hugged you tightly, brushing one hand through the strands of your hair lovingly while he whispered endless apologies, never wanting to upset you in this manner ever again.

#Thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomad shelby drabble #ranaewrites #tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #tommy shelby drabble

770 notes · View notes

pucksandpower · 2 years ago

Text

Your Boss Will Do | Toto Wolff

Summary: your (ex) boyfriend screws you over so you end up screwing his boss and find love in the most unlikely of places

Warnings: infidelity (not between the main pairing), attempted violence, and vague mentions of spice

As you stepped out of the taxi, the heat of the sun embraced your skin and welcomed you to the bustling principality where the Monaco Grand Prix was about to take place. This was supposed to be an exciting weekend with a chance to visit your boyfriend, Lucas, who worked as a mechanic for Mercedes. Little did you know that your world was about to be turned upside down.

You had been together with Lucas for two years, and although there were some ups and downs in your relationship, you believed your love was strong. But as you made your way to the hotel, your heart started to feel a strange unease as if something was amiss. Brushing off the thoughts, you told yourself it was just lingering stress from the long journey.

Finally, you arrived at the luxurious hotel which was already buzzing with team personnel and fans there for the upcoming race. The lobby was a sea of energy and excitement but you just could not shake the nagging feeling that something was wrong. Still, determined to see Lucas, you tried to ignore the pit in your stomach and made your way up to his room.

As you approached the door, you heard muffled moans and whimpers coming from inside. Confusion and curiosity gripped you. You hesitated for a moment, unsure of whether to knock or just barge in, but ultimately you chose the latter, wanting to surprise him with your early arrival.

What you saw upon entering shattered your heart into a thousand tiny pieces. There, tangled among the bedsheets, were Lucas and a flushed woman you had never seen before. The shock paralyzed you as you took in the scene before you — their disheveled clothes, the guilty expressions on their faces, and the unmistakable sense of betrayal that hung heavy in the air.

Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you stumbled backward. Lucas and the woman quickly separated, faces pale as they realized they had been caught in the act. You turned on your heels, running out of the room, heart pounding in your chest as a tidal wave of more emotions than you could pinpoint flooded your entire being.

With nowhere to go, you found yourself seated at the hotel bar, seeking solace in a glass of whiskey. The amber liquid swirled as you nursed your broken heart, thoughts consumed by the image of Lucas and that woman now imprinted in your brain.

Lost in your despair, you failed to notice the man who had quietly taken a seat next to you. His presence disrupted your thoughts, and you turned to face the tall, distinguished gentleman in a white button down with serious brown eyes and a calm yet intense demeanor. You immediately recognized him from the Formula 1 broadcast on your television screen.

“Seems like you could use a friend,” Toto said, his voice smooth and comforting. “Mind if I join you?”

You nodded, appreciating the unexpected company. Toto ordered a drink and leaned back, his eyes studying you curiously. “I couldn't help but notice the sadness in your eyes. Care to share?”

As the tears threatened to spill over, you found yourself pouring your heart out to someone who was a stranger in all but name. You told him about Lucas, the love you had shared, and the devastating betrayal you had just witnessed. The longer you spoke, the more your voice trembled with pain.

Toto listened attentively, his gaze never leaving your face. When you finished, he reached out and gently wiped away a tear that had escaped your eye. “I'm truly sorry for what you are going through. No one deserves to be treated like that.”

With a heavy sigh, you confessed, “I don't even have a place to stay now. I was supposed to stay with Lucas but I can't bear to be near him.”

Toto's eyes softened with empathy. “You can stay with me. My villa is not too far from here. It's the least I can do to offer you some comfort.”

Surprised by his generous offer, you hesitated. “I don't want to impose.”

“You are not imposing at all,” Toto assured. “Please, let me take care of you.”

A mix of trepidation and desire coiled within you, weaving a web of temptation. In that moment of vulnerability, you made a choice to embrace the unknown and surrender to the passion that beckoned. Nodding in silent agreement, you allowed Toto to guide you away from the bar, leaving behind the splintered shards of your past.

In Toto’s private sanctuary, a world of decadence and desire unfolded before you. The opulent villa, with its dimly lit rooms and plush furnishings, became a playground for stolen moments and hidden pleasures. Each touch, each kiss, ignited a fire that consumed you both — a flame that burned away the remnants of heartbreak, leaving only an insatiable hunger for each other.

Amidst tousled Egyptian cotton sheets and whispered promises, you discovered the intoxicating power of surrender in a dance of passion and vulnerability that left you breathless. Toto explored the contours of your body with reverence, awakening desires you had long forgotten. In his arms, you found redemption, his touch mending the broken fragments of your soul, as overwhelming pleasure mingled with bittersweet memories of the past.

Days turned into nights and nights into a blur of fervid moments and languid mornings. Toto spoiled you with adoration, showering you with gestures that whispered of his devotion. He painted your world with colors that had only existed in dreams before him — the symphony of his kisses, the tender caress of his fingertips, and the way his voice melted into yours during whispered confessions of early love.

Race weekends came and went and your connection with Toto grew stronger with each passing moment. He showed you a different world filled with respect, kindness, and unconditional love. His home became yours as well — a sanctuary where you could heal and rediscover yourself.

Toto’s touch was gentle yet electric, sending shivers down your spine whenever his fingers brushed against your skin. His lips were soft and warm, his kisses both tender and passionate. With each intimate encounter, the tension between you heightened, adding an exhilarating edge to your blossoming relationship.

You were swept up in a whirlwind of romance. Between heated embraces and whispered pleas, Toto convinced you to join along for his travels and soon you were exploring countless cities together, walking hand in hand through the vibrant streets, indulging in exquisite cuisine, and immersing yourselves in the local culture. Toto was a fascinating companion, his stories painting vivid pictures in your mind and his presence making you feel alive in a way you had never experienced before.

As neither you nor Toto had any desire to keep your relationship hidden, Lucas was in for a rude awakening. Consumed by anger and jealousy, he confronted you one afternoon outside the Mercedes garage, spit flying with his bitter words. “So this is what you've been doing while I was working, huh? Sleeping with my boss? I hope you're happy. Keep opening your legs to anyone with some money in the bank!”

His words stung but you refused to let his cruelty break you. Standing tall, you looked him in the eye, your voice steady. “I may have ended up in Toto's arms but I was driven there because you broke my heart into a million pieces. I deserve better than the lies and betrayal you offered me. But in the end I should thank you, because you ultimately led me to the best thing that has even been mine.”

Lucas’ face twisted with rage but before he could respond, Toto emerged from the garage, his presence as commanding and solid as always. “I suggest you leave, Lucas. Your behavior is unacceptable and I will not tolerate it in my team or in my personal life.”

Lucas’ mouth opened and closed but no words came out. His anger turned to defeat as he stormed off, leaving you standing there with Toto by your side. The relief of having Toto’s support washed over you and you clung to him as your knees threatened to buckle, knowing that you had made the right choice in leaving Lucas behind.

From that day forward, Toto spoiled you with love and affection even more than before. He showed you what a true partnership based on trust, respect, and shared dreams should be. He supported your aspirations and encouraged you to pursue your own passions, all while cherishing every moment you spent together.

You stood by Toto’s side, attending races and witnessing the triumphs and challenges that came with the sport firsthand. The fiery passion between you never waned but it was no longer the sole foundation of your relationship. It had evolved into a deep emotional connection — a bond that transcended just physical desire.

You found yourself becoming a familiar face in the paddock and the lively Mercedes garage. The once-foreign territory transformed into a second home filled with friendly smiles and warm greetings from the team. Toto took pride in having you next to him and he delighted in showing you off to everyone watching.

With each race, you became more absorbed into the world of Formula 1. The team welcomed you with open arms, eager to share their knowledge and stories. You listened attentively, absorbing the intricacies of the sport and the dedication that fueled each member. Similarly, they admired your resilience and how you had overcome heartache to find love and happiness again.

The paddock buzzed with whispers and speculation as news of your relationship with Toto spread like wildfire. Some saw it as a scandalous affair while others admired the power couple that had emerged from the ashes of betrayal.

Lucas was unable to escape the reality of your newfound connection. The sight of you and Toto, locked in an embrace or sharing hungry glances gnawed at him like a festering wound. The anger within him grew, fueled by jealousy and entitlement. He resented the fact that you had moved on and found happiness in the arms of his boss.

One fateful day as the sun beamed down on the paddock, Lucas approached you, his face contorted in anger. “So this is what it’s come to,” he sneered, words dripping with venom. “You've officially traded me in for a richer model.”

You remained tall, refusing to cower as he wrongfully projected the blame onto you. “It was never about power or wealth. Toto has shown me what true love and respect look like. He cherishes me in a way you never did and never could.”

Lucas’ rage flared and he lunged forward with misguided fury. “I won't let him have you! You're mine. I won't stand by while he takes you away.”

But before he could reach you, Toto wedged himself between you and Lucas, a protective pillar of strength. “You will not touch her,” Toto pushed your ex-boyfriend back. “Your possessiveness and anger have no place here. Y/N does not belong to you or anyone for that matter. She is free to choose who to love and she has chosen me. If you cannot respect our relationship, I will have no choice but to take further action.”

The ugly expression never left Lucas’ face but he must have recognized the futility of his actions. Toto was nearly a head taller than him and at the top of both the Mercedes and Formula 1 food chain. With one final glare, he turned and disappeared into the crowd of people as his bravado crumbled.

Toto drew you into his arms, holding you close as if to shield you from the remnants of your past. His touch, once filled with merely desire, now possessed a deep set tenderness — a promise that he would always defend and cherish you.

As the season continued, Toto’s devotion to you only deepened. He spoiled you with grand gestures and intimate moments — helicopter rides over breathtaking landscapes, candlelit dinners under the stars, and stolen kisses in the hustle of the garages. He reveled in pampering you, eager to show you what a true partnership built on mutual respect and trust should be like.

It was in the moments away from the track, in the refuge of your private lives, that your relationship truly flourished. Toto was your confidant, your champion, and your partner. His love letters adorned your nightstand, his whispers of adoration reverberated through your dreams, and his touch ignited a passion that transcended feasible thought. In his arms, you discovered the depth of intimacy and connection, where pleasure melded with profound emotion and left you breathless and yearning for more. In the midst of the chaos and adrenaline, Toto became your anchor, grounding you in a love that surpassed all expectations. You navigated the twists and turns of the sport and of life together and faced the triumphs and setbacks hand in hand. The love you shared with Toto was a force that defied all doubts and insecurities, reminding you that you were worthy of happiness and bliss.

While celebrating a victorious race, you relished in the second family that had adopted you. Laughter filled the air as the team exchanged stories and you couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging.

As the conversation shifted to humorous anecdotes, Toto leaned in and whispered in your ear, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “Remember the first time we met at the hotel bar? I never would have imagined that sitting next to a beautiful woman nursing her whiskey would lead to all of this.”

You chuckled and playfully nudged him. “Well I suppose we have Lucas to thank for introducing us in his own twisted way.”

Toto raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “Yes, he was quite the unusual matchmaker. I doubt he expected me to take such an interest in his ex-girlfriend.”

A burst of laughter escaped your lips and you shook your head. “I'm sure he regrets it now.”

Just then, Lewis joined the conversation. He flashed a grin at both of you. "So is it true that Toto stole your heart faster than our car can drive a lap?"

You exchanged a playful glance with Toto before replying. “Let's just say Toto knows how to handle more than just the team.”

Toto shrugged teasingly. “What can I say? I have a magic touch both on and off the track.”

The group erupted into hoots and hollers and, reveling in the well-meaning cheers, you realized that despite the initial heartbreak and turmoil, life had brought you to a place where love and joy prospered. You couldn't help but feel grateful for the unexpected turns that had led you to where you were meant to be.

2K notes · View notes

syrma-sensei · 20 days ago

Text

→ Red Ink.

Pairing: Kuchiki Byakuya x Fem!reader.

Rating: Mature.

Setting: Post TYBW.

Warnings: Spoilers for the final chapter of the manga, nudity, self-care, fluff, implied smut.

Word Count: 2.5k

Summary: Red and ink write your destiny.

“Abarai Ichika!”

You call out as you chase the small ball of red hair and mischief. The little menace giggles as she runs through the corridors of the Kuchiki Manor, and you go after her, “Come back here!”

The reason for this little pursuit is in Ichika’s small hand and practically on her forehead. She stole some ink and a brush from the hall of the Calligraphy Club, which is chaired by Lord Byakuya himself, and decided to have a special paint on her face. I want my eyebrows to be super cool like my dad’s, she said when you caught her red-handed, or ink-handed so to speak. In the process, she screwed up some parchments of the club’s members, particularly, her uncle's.

Drops of ink trail behind her as she sprints with the agility of a cat whereas your feet start to hurt. You slow down in your tracks to catch your breath, then you sigh with a shake of your head when you realise it's pointless to go after her.

You've been one of Ichika's nannies since she was a baby. One of the trusted women whom the elders of House Kuchiki dispatched over to the Abarai residence because her father and mother are a working couple, and more so when Lady Rukia became the new captain of the Thirteenth Squad.

You sigh, refusing the defeat. Your feet move again. In times like this, your gist of being that girl's nanny should show now.

The Kuchiki Estate has been your home since forever. Being the only daughter of the mansion's grand butler, you were brought up side by side with the young master, Kuchiki Byakuya, the heir of the noble clan at the time. So, you know every and each secret passage in this building. Including the hall where The Shinigami Women's Association used to take place.

You slide through a secret door within a wall, and you appear before Ichika whose stupor is blatant on her face. However, she quickly recovers and braces herself and makes a detour, slipping through your hands as you readied yourself to catch her.

You groan in frustration. “I’m gonna kill you, child!” Your threat is pompous of course; you love the girl and her parents, and most definitely her uncle.

Ages before what mordant complications of a noble's life in the Seireitei entailed — the current head of one of the Five Great Noble Clans no less, Byakuya used to find great solace in your companionship despite the insufferable nonsense the hot-headed young lord had had you to deal with in moments of jitteriness. You were his confidant, his best friend.

Unlike most of the Seireitei's lords, his grandfather, Lord Kuchiki Ginrei, allowed the two of you to grow a unique bond in spite of the broad difference between your posts. The oldman was kind and generous enough to let his only grandson, his heir, to befriend a girl of a lower status. Furthermore, he did appreciate the notion of his grandson having a close one whom harboured nothing but loyalty and love in her heart for the young lord. Someone he could depend on when the going gets tough. For he knew, he knew that a high post such as theirs was a magnet for beguiling hypocrites and lickspittles. And a wise lord always needs his small and close circle of trustworthy people, regardless of their standing, to counsel and guide him when he is in need of advice and different points of views.

It's little to no wonder when people are struck with stupor when they learn that the frigid Captain of the Sixth Squad was a troublesome one in his early young days. Shihouin Yoruichi and Ukitake Jūshirō can affirm it; small wonder who Little Ichika takes after. He had such a remarkable ambition to be a leader like his grandfather. His determined dedication and unstoppable force of will were admirable to say the least. And to you they were more than admirable.

Over the years of being brought up with the young lord, your affections for him have altered. In your late adolescent years, you noticed the heat dusting your cheeks red whenever you came to the training hall to watch him train and build up his physique. You were a witness of the evolution of his voice, from high-pitched of a boy to deep and reverent of a man, a lord. And your love and respect for him only grew bigger and… wilder.

No matter how much you reminded yourself of who and what you were to put a bridle on those sprouting feelings, you only grew much more fond of him, regardless of his massive character change. For you knew, beneath the mask of the solid lord, there was the boy you fell in love with.

Within the Manor's endless corridors, where Lord Byakuya is strolling leisurely, he's having rather an important conversation with an elder of the Central 46. Byakuya sent for them to send a delegation to discuss a matter of importance for House Kuchiki.

Byakuya enunciates with that lilt to his voice. “I’d like my niece, Lady Ichika, to be my legal heir.” The tone he speaks in is firm, void of hesitation that hints at several vigilant nights of reflection.

The wise elder is struck with astonishment, yet he's quick to regain his aplomb, “Your niece is still too little to receive such a title, Your Lordship.”

“I was younger than her when I was anointed as my lord grandfather's heir.” Byakuya retorts with reason.

The elder chuckles nervously, “Well, you're your father's son, and you were next in line for the succession, milord. Lady Rukia is no—”

“Is not what, wise man?” Byakuya raises a brow.

“Is no true blood of yours, Kuchiki-sama.”

Byakuya stops in his track, stunned by the man's insolence towards his sister. “What do you mean by that, Your Reverence?”

“What I mean is crystal clear, milord,” The man says, “Lady Ichika cannot bequeath the legacy of House Kuchiki.”

Byakuya’s voice remains stringent, “Need I remind you, Your Reverence, that Central 46 accepted Rukia as my sister.”

“Adoptive sister.” The man corrects.

“Either way, Rukia holds the Kuchiki's name as well as I do.” Byakuya argues, “And do tread carefully, Your Reverence, you're stepping on rotten ice. Any disrespect to my sister and her family, would be considered disrespect to my person.”

“Pardon me, milord, but we urge you to marry again and produce heirs—”

A loud shriek cut through the air, and both men turn on their heels towards the source of it. A ball of red and ink pelt at Byakuya's feet, and Ichika's violet eyes — that reminds him of Rukia — meet his grey ones.

“Uncle!” She smiles up at him, one incisor tooth missing.

“Gods!” You gasp as you reach them. “I’m terribly sorry, Byakuya-sama!”

He seldom smiles after his wife's death. But you've got used to see him smiling more after Ichika was born. It warms your heart to see him smiling. You're only bitter that you're not the reason for his smiles.

Byakuya scooches down and cradles Ichika in his arms and lifts her up, she giggles and nuzzles into his hold.

“I see you found my ink collection, little one.”

She giggles, “I just wanted cool eyebrows like Papa's, but (Y/N) won't let me!”

He glances at you, and you blush as he sees your painted face and crumpled clothes. He arches a brow.

“Well, if you want tattoos like your father's, that has to wait until your old enough.”

“But uncle!” She whines and you chuckle.

“Abomination…” You hear the elder mutter, and you flinch. Did you just hear what you think you heard?

“Excuse me?” You snap, “How dare you insult Lady Ichika in her lord uncle’s house!”

“Guard your tongue, servant,” Then he looks at Byakuya, “You should punish that servant for overstepping her place!”

“The only one who's overstepped his place is you, Your Reverence.” Your heart leaps to your throat as you hear Byakuya defending you. “Leave.” He orders.

“The Elders won't let this slip by, Your Lordship.” The elder speaks with spite.

“Neither will I.”

With that, the elder turns and leaves the hall.

You sigh in relief as your body submerges in the hot water of the private onsen. What a day, you think.

You savour the sweet silence that plunges the whole Manor after everyone retired to their beds. You're grateful that Ichika was out like a light, with a toy of her uncle’s Wakame Ambassador tugged under her tiny arm. Her mom and dad are on a mission, and Byakuya was more than glad to have her for a couple of days in his hospitality. And it was you who accompanied her here.

You sigh again, letting the hot water do its magic to ease your tense muscles. That little troublemaker is a handful, a cute handful that makes your back sore from running after her. You chuckle, rubbing the muscles of your shoulders. You think of her uncle. Byakuya. Your heart paces up. He literally stood against a representative of the Central 46 for you. Well, technically, he stood up for his niece, but you're desperate enough to take it for you.

Your hand slid delicately between your legs. A soft moan escapes your mouth as you apply pressure at your swollen bud. While your fingers play with it, your mind drifts back to him. Lord Byakuya, your forbidden fruit.

“Ahh, Byakuya…” You sigh, adding more pressure to your clit.

Then out of nowhere, you hear footsteps. You sink deeper into the water, “Who’s there?” And suddenly you're worried they heard your moans.

Your eyes dilate when they fall on none other than Lord Byakuya himself. A fierce blush touches your cheeks, instinctively covering your breasts with your arms. You reach for a towel to cover yourself and leave.

He isn't supposed to be here, you made sure everyone was asleep when you decided to have some self-care in his private onsen.

“At ease…” He stops you, and you blink. Is he serious? Well, Byakuya always is. So, you refrain from approaching the towel, whereas he drops his bathrobe and lets you watch him walk over into the water with his glorious nakedness. You sink again in the water, trying to look away, but you can't when his impressive length is on full display. Is he hard because of you?

You're awash by disappointment as his body is now blurred by the water.

“B-Byakuya-sama?! What are you doing here?”

Oblivious to your own effect, Byakuya feels flames crossing his loins while watching you playing with yourself in such a divine state. Your head hung backwards as your lips cracked open in a lewd moan.

Byakuya holds his breath.

His bold gaze doesn't waver from you, as his deep, resonant voice says, “Shouldn't I be asking that question, (Y/N)?”

Your head is at the verge of exploding from mortification; at that very moment, you wish the ground to split open and swallow you up.

“I-I’m sorry…” You mumble, looking away.

“No need to apologise,” He says, “Handling Ichika the way you do, earns such a treat. So, please…” He extends his hand, “Don’t let my presence bother you…”

You glance back at him then down at the water swirling around you. Your heart throbbing in your chest that you fear he can hear its call for him.

At some point, you thought your love for him would deflate after his marriage to Hisana, but you were wrong. It only added fuel to the fire within your spirit. You claimed you knew him but you didn't. You were self-convinced that he'd never regard you more than a close friend due to your status. However, his marriage to Hisana was the ultimate proof of your cowardness. Because he married a commoner, so were you.

“I could never be bothered by your presence, Byakuya…”

And just like that, his name slips through your lips like silk, and for the time in forever, you see Byakuya's body shiver.

Thick silence reigns over the air, until he breaks it, “Thank you for taking care of Ichika.”

Your toes curl under the water. Small talk. Kuchiki Byakuya is doing small talk while you're both naked in the hot spring. Talk about awkward situations.

You shake your head, “It’s nothing, Byakuya-sama, I'm just doing my job.”

“If it is so, I think you might have quitted the very first day.”

You chuckle, “I love Ichika, she can be a handful, but I still love her. I love her parents.” I love you. “Taking care of her is like taking care of a younger sibling.”

“That pleases me,” He answers, “Ichika needs people who truly love her… for her.”

You allow a smile to slip on your lips. That's the true Byakuya, the one you grew up with, your Byakuya.

“You honour me with your words, Byakuya-sama.”

“Those aren't just my words, (Y/N),” He says, “Those are my sentiments.”

Why is he approaching you while talking about his sentiments? Naked no less. You start to panic.

You choose to stare at his torso as he dwarfs you with his height. He tips your chin up with his slender fingers. His smokey eyes piercing through your souls. Then, he leans in and pecks your lips softly. It's brief, but slow enough to taste his mouth. Within those moments, the world stops and has only you and him.

“I love you.” You find yourself whispering when he breaks the kiss.

Byakuya gives you a rare grin, one that reminds you of the boy you fell in love with.

“Marry me…”

Your eyes go wide, then they search him. Is he pulling your leg like the old days? You hope so, but deep down you don't.

“Yes or no…”

“Byakuya…”

“Today, when that oaf asked me to get married again and produce heirs… it was you who I thought of.”

Sweet crimson dusts over your cheek at his confession. “But Byakuya—”

“I love you too…”

It's your turn to kiss him. He kisses back.

There's a lot to process right now, but you only focus on his lips.

“Yes,” You murmur against his lips. “I would love to be your wife, Byakuya-sama.” You give him a toothy grin to which he responds with a conceited smirk.

“Good girl.” He murmurs and you blush.

“And you're a bad boy…” You say, “You want to marry me so you can rub it in the elders’ faces.”

To anyone, Byakuya is a fuddy-duddy, but your Byakuya is a rule breaker.

“You know me so well.”

You grin at him. “I think I do.”

Byakuya proceeds to kiss you again, this time slowly, deliberately, as if he's conveying how he actually feels about you. He hoists you up and carries you to his chambers when you make love. You can't believe this, if this is some cruel dream it better end now, but it doesn't, because the next day, you wake up as the new Lady Kuchiki.

• Main Masterlist.

• Bleach Masterlist.

• AO3.

#bleach thousand year blood war #bleach fandom #bleach byakuya #byakuya kuchiki imagine #byakuya kuchiki #byakuya kuchiki x reader #kuchiki byakuya #kuchiki byakuya x reader #bleach fanfic #bleach x reader #bleach x you #bleach x y/n #Byakuya Kuchiki x y/n #Byakuya Kuchiki x you #abarai ichika #bleach rukia #abarai renji

97 notes · View notes

moonlight-joy · 2 months ago

Text

The River’s Edge

Fandom: Yellowstone

Summury: A heartfelt moment unfolds by the river as Rip Wheeler, burdened by his fears and vulnerabilities, allows himself to open up, finding solace and unwavering support in your steadfast love under the vast Montana sky.

Pairing: Reader/Rip Wheeler

The Montana wilderness stretched out around you, its stillness amplified by the golden light of the setting sun. The faint hum of insects, the soft rustle of leaves, and the gentle murmur of the river created a symphony of quiet that was both comforting and heavy with unspoken tension.

Rip Wheeler stood a few paces ahead, his back to you, his broad shoulders squared as if he were trying to physically carry the weight of whatever storm was brewing inside him. His hat was tilted low, casting a shadow over his face, but even without seeing his expression, you knew something was wrong.

You hesitated, the instinct to reach out warring with the knowledge that Rip wasn’t a man who opened up easily. But you couldn’t just stand there and do nothing.

“Rip,” you called softly.

He didn’t turn around, but you saw the slight twitch in his shoulders, the smallest sign that he’d heard you. Encouraged, you stepped closer, your boots crunching softly against the rocky riverbank.

“Rip,” you repeated, your voice gentle but firm. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

He let out a slow, heavy sigh, his shoulders sagging slightly as he reached up to adjust his hat. “I’m fine,” he said, but the rough edge in his voice betrayed him.

“You’re a lot of things, Rip, but ‘fine’ isn’t one of them right now,” you said, crossing the remaining distance between you. You stopped just a step away, close enough to feel the tension radiating off him. “What’s wrong?”

For a long moment, he didn’t answer. He just stared out at the river, his jaw clenched tight. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost a whisper. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me,” you said, your tone soft but unyielding. “I’m here, Rip. Whatever it is, you don’t have to carry it alone.”

He finally turned to look at you, and the raw emotion in his eyes made your breath catch. Rip had always been a steady presence, a rock amidst the chaos of life on the ranch. But now, he looked like a man on the edge, torn between wanting to let you in and the fear of what that might mean.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he said, his voice rough and uneven. “I don’t know how to care about someone like this—how to want someone this much—and not screw it up.”

You blinked, his words sinking in. “Rip, you’re not going to screw it up.”

He shook his head, frustration etched into every line of his face. “You don’t get it. I feel... I feel like I’d burn the whole damn world down to keep you safe. And that scares me. I don’t know how to be any other way, and I don’t want you to feel like I’m... like I’m too much.”

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. Rip wasn’t a man who shared his feelings easily, and this confession was like baring his soul. You stepped closer, your hand hovering near his arm before finally resting there.

“Rip,” you said gently, your eyes searching his. “You’re not too much. You care about me—that’s not something to be afraid of.”

“But what if I push too hard?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “What if I scare you off?”

“You won’t,” you said firmly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He stared at you, his dark eyes filled with uncertainty. For a moment, it looked like he might pull away again, retreat into himself. But then, slowly, hesitantly, he reached out and pulled you into his arms.

The embrace was tentative at first, as though he was afraid of hurting you. But as you wrapped your arms around his waist and leaned into him, he relaxed, his hold tightening as if he was afraid to let you go.

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmured, his voice muffled against your hair.

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, your hands resting on his chest. “Yes, you do. You deserve to be loved, Rip. And I’m not going anywhere.”

His gaze softened, the tension in his jaw easing as he let out a shaky breath. “You’re something else,” he said, his voice low and warm.

“So I’ve been told,” you replied with a small smile, hoping to lighten the moment.

He chuckled softly, the sound rumbling in his chest. It was a small victory, but it felt monumental.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the landscape in hues of amber and purple, the two of you stood there by the river, holding each other. The weight of Rip’s fears and insecurities didn’t vanish completely, but in that moment, it felt lighter, more manageable.

The river flowed steadily behind you, its constancy a quiet reminder that life would keep moving forward. And for the first time, Rip seemed willing to let himself believe that he didn’t have to face it alone.

He pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on your waist, and looked down at you with an intensity that made your heart race. “Thank you,” he said simply, his voice thick with emotion.

“For what?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“For staying,” he said. “For not giving up on me.”

You smiled, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his face. “I’m not going anywhere, Rip. You’re stuck with me.”

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and he nodded. “Good.”

The two of you stood there for a while longer, the Montana wilderness wrapping around you like a cocoon. As the first stars began to appear in the darkening sky, you knew one thing for certain: whatever challenges lay ahead, you and Rip would face them together.

Please support my work with like and comment

#yellowstone tv #rip wheeler #rip wheeler x reader #rip wheeler x ofc #cole hauser

59 notes · View notes

p0orbaby · 1 year ago

Text

Getaway

summary: relationships are complicated, yours and Alessia’s is no different

warnings: nudity and mentions of sex, a little toxic from both parties

a/n: inspired by the song Getaway by Blossoms. I’d give it a listen

word count: 1.4k

Your room, I leave, white door open for me. Dead leaves upon the grass

Your breath plumes in the air. Cold hands tucked into pockets, you make your way to your car. Autumns never used to look like this. They were once full of colour, of fun, of laughs and smiles.

Now they have a different hue. Hiding in shadows and whispered words. Late night drives and early morning starts in last night's clothes.

It will take some getting used to. Ex doesn’t taste right on your tongue. Especially when you keep kissing the person who gave you that title in the first place. Lines tend to blur when their hands tangle in your hair and you lick into their mouth.

Yet, amidst the changing seasons, you remain anchored where you stand.

Unlocking your car, you slump into the driver's seat. Wrapping your jacket around you further to try and stave off some of the morning chill.

The engine roars to life, and you find solace in it’s familiar hum. Her scent still lingers on your skin, a blunt reminder of the passion that still simmers beneath the surface. The car pulls away, tires crunching over gravel as you navigate the roads back to a house empty of her.

I’m over you, you’re under me. This is the last time, don't say it's the last time

She lay bare for you. The sheets tangled around her legs. Shadows from the bedside lamp dancing across her skin.

You were alone an hour ago. The inbetween state where your eyes are heavy but your brain still moves a mile a minute. She keeps you awake quite frequently these days.

Then the screen of your phone lights up the room and you instantly know it’s her. You perk up in the worst way possible. Your body has a Pavlovian response to her messages.

She sits atop you, your name on her lips makes your heart race just the same. She gasps and you respond with more, against your better judgment. She’ll scold you for marking her when she’s calmed down a little, but you don’t mind.

You tend to like the sting of rejection. The push before the pull.

Sometimes she asks you to stay. Through deep breaths and hooded eyes, she reaches for your hand to keep you close. Your own eyes screw shut as she traces lazy circles on your skin, just the way you like.

It’s as if things haven’t changed. But they have. She knows that though she doesn’t seem to care. There’s no commitment between you now. But the way you lay your head in her lap says otherwise.

You tell yourself it’s to keep her sweet, but you know deep down the only person who needs convincing is you.

Call me up. You’ve got me choking up

“You two are mad, you know that right. Utterly stupid”

You shrug because she’s not wrong. What are you supposed to say to that?

“We’re okay” you settle on.

“I don’t think sleeping with someone every other night without another word is considered okay”

“We text. We fuck. It works for us and it scratches an itch”

Leah rolls her eyes, but you can’t tell if it’s playful or condescending. Either don’t care. You like the arrangement you’ve got going on.

“She broke up with me you know” you defend, though you’re not sure why. “She’s the one in the wrong here”

“That doesn’t make this whole thing any better. You’ll both end up hurt and I’ll be left picking up the pieces”

You find yourself defending Alessia almost reflexively. “It’s just the way we are now. I told you, we’re fine” you say, as if that’s a sufficient explanation.

As Leah contemplates your words your phone buzzes. Talk of the devil.

“That her?”

“Yeah,” you reply, your response brief. Curt. Your mind elsewhere.

“She texts,” Leah starts.

“We fuck,” you finish. That’s years of friendship for you.

“I better leave you two to it then” she says, collecting her things without much ceremony.

The door clicks shut behind her.

You say can we try? I say it’s a waste of time lovin

“I miss you”

It’s infuriating because you know she’s telling the truth. In some way, at least. She broke up with you because of her move down south. It was a weak excuse you told her at the time, people make it work across farther distances apart.

Then you got a contract in London too. On purpose or not, even you can’t answer that. So things picked back up. Slowly, then all at once. And now you hate that you’re falling for her all over again.

“I’m right here” you say, but your gaze is distant, lost in the unresolved spaces between you. The words hang heavy in the air, unspoken yet understood. It’s a dance you both know well, a rhythm of longing and hesitation.

The silence stretches, and you wonder if this attempt at connection is futile. Your heart beats out a rhythm that syncs with the unanswered plea in her eyes.

The clock on the wall ticks a little too loudly.

Finally, she breaks the quietude, her voice a soft murmur, “are you?”

You stand from your place on the couch. Your skin, sticky with sweat, prickles as the throw slips down your body. Eyes scanning the floor for your discarded clothes.

“Alessia, stop”

You catch her name on your tongue, a plea and a command wrapped into one. The room feels tense, humid.

Her eyes lock onto yours, her stare full of vulnerability and defiance. You fumble as you put your underwear back on. Your hands shake as you try to regain composure.

“I want all of you again. Not just, this” she waves her arms around the room. You know what she means. “Not just nights. I want afternoons and mornings and everything in between”

The room seems to shrink, the confines amplifying the gravity of the moment. You close your eyes and take a deep breath in.

“You dropped me once,” you whisper into the air. Your eyes stay shut. “What's stopping you from doing it again?”

Her response lingers in the charged air, and you feel heavy as you await a response.

She stands then too, though an old t-shirt of yours keeps her covered.

She steps closer, her hands cradling your face. “I was scared, I didn’t know what our future held being apart like that,” she confesses, the pads of her thumb coaxing your eyes. Her eyes seeking yours.

You remain silent, the echoes of her words resonating within you.

“But I was stupid to let you go ,” she continues, her voice steady. “I want to try again, to build something more”

As you meet her gaze, the vulnerability in her eyes speaks louder than words. The choice lingers in the room, a delicate dance between holding on and letting go. The unresolved spaces seem to shift, and you find yourself standing at the precipice of possibility.

“I need you to stay,” she says, her plea carrying the weight of a promise.

You kiss her when tears spill from your eyes.

If we’re in love, tonight we can getaway

“Hi”

“Hi back”

You blush when she smiles at you.

“Do you have everything?” You ask, automatically reaching for her hold-all. The engine of your car humming in the background as you walk her to the passenger side.

She smiles again, a knowing look in her eyes as she’s reminded of memories of forgotten passports and misplaced toothbrushes “I double-checked, promise. I’ve got everything I need”

The echoes of your old life linger in the air, but today feels different. The effort to be better, to move beyond the hesitations and doubts, hangs like a fragile yet hopeful thread.

She gets in before you, settling in her seat once you’ve closed the door behind her. You hope she doesn’t see you grinning to yourself in the rearview as you place her bags next to yours in the boot.

You catch the subtle intertwining of her fingers with yours as you sit behind the wheel. The familiar touch carries the weight of unspoken commitment, a silent promise to navigate this new journey together, leaving the past behind.

The engine purrs as the car pulls away, tires crunching over gravel. She leans forward to connect her phone to the car's speakers, a move you think she doesn’t realise is subconscious.

You squeeze her fingers. She hums to a song from a band you introduced her to all those years ago.

Muscle memories. Maybe they’re for moments like this. Your bodies not wanting to forget the good times, holding out for when they’re needed again.

#alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #awfc #awfc x reader #engwnt #engwnt x reader #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine

329 notes · View notes

dutchdread · 10 months ago

Text

Ouch, that's gotta hurt.

Watching Cleriths celebrate NPTK these past weeks, knowing they'll, as always, be proven incorrect has been an exercise in patience. Sometimes it's just clear that you won't be able to convince people of a complex truth when so often discourse is limited to 280 characters. The reason Clerith exists is that people are unable to see the big picture, it survives by people squinting and not seeing the "but" that's located right after every piece of evidence they put forward. This means that you'll often be perceived to be arguing against what is to them the blatantly obvious. It's futile, nuanced argument never wins from emotion, so often you just have to take solace in the idea that "well, it will be fun to see their surprise 4 years from now". So when you get an interview like this, mere weeks after the game releases, which confirms everything that Clotis had been saying about, and had been mocked for, NPTK, you can't help feel a sense of schadenfreude.

Man that's gotta hurt. This is the difference between Clotis and Cleriths. Cleriths don't really like Aerith, because they want to assassinate her character. Rather than a sad tragic tale of a lifetime of love and loss they want to reduce her character to a shallow cliche rom-com about a capricious girl whose fickle affections change by the hour. The fact that the first person Aerith starts developing feelings for after 5 years of pining after Zack is a man who is almost literally channeling Zack becomes a meaningless coincidence in the story. The fact that she knows Cloud for 2 weeks, most of which is also spent pining over Zack is viewed as confirmation of how special their love is. It doesn't matter that Aerith doesn't even know who Cloud is. It doesn't matter that Cloud is shown to very obviously be in love with another woman. It doesn't matter that Cloud is clearly losing his mind. It doesn't matter that Cloud is constantly show as being apathetic towards her advancements. Even them fighting is recontextualized as "good chemistry" just to avoid facing reality. Usually nonsensical romances are seen as bad-writing, but here the cope makes people excuse all the nonsense as "how brilliantly written is this story? They love each other despite it making no sense, now THAT is romance". Zack is called irrelevant, CC is a "ret-con" and can be ignored, ACC is about how romantic it is to want to die to be with someone. The reason Zack is so predominant in Rebirth is in no way connected to Aerith yearning for exactly the bond he's constantly showing to have with her. The contrast with Clouds apathy means nothing, he definitely isn't there to have some sort of pay-off with Aerith in part 3. Nah, he's just there to give Cloud and Aerith his blessing and to F-off. The reason Tifa is silent and heartbroken at the end has nothing to do with her best friend dying and the man she loves losing his mind. The distance between her and Cloud at that moment is totally not used to illustrate the severity of the situation, or to set-up Tifas importance in the events for part 3. Nah, she doesn't get lines because she's just a side character duh!. That is how they think, every single character and story is assassinated, everything happens only to service Cloud and Aeriths romance, even Cloud and Aerith themselves are pushed through the mud. Screw the death of Ifalna, screw the death of Zack, screw the complexity surrounding Clouds Zack shaped psychology, screw Aeriths childhood and desire for real bonds of friendship, screw even the story of Aerith dying and how maybe, JUST MAYBE, the scenes surrounding Aeriths death have SOMETHING to do with the strong emotions surrounding death rather than just being "a cute romance scene uwu". Never have I seen any story interpretation reveal such rampant hatred for a character as Cleriths reveal for Aerith. To them, Aerith is totally the kind of person who would bond with Tifa, hear the very personal and intimate story about the promise shared between her and Cloud, hear that Cloud thinks that Zack is dead, and not 5 minutes later write a story about how "she loves Cloud and they wouldn't need no promises like that other girl". But sure, I'm the one who hates Aerith, not the people who think this is who she is, but me, the person who assumed she'd be less vile than that and that any song she'd write would encompass more than that. I stand up for her character and get mocked, called an Aerith hater, and called "toxic"....and then you get an interview like this. God it feels good to always have all your positions validated by future content. One has to wonder if the people still arguing for Clerith ever sit back and think "wait, the last 100 times I dismissed these peoples arguments I was proven wrong almost immediately, I am constantly having to shift my goalposts while they're just happily sitting there laughing as they consume media about Cloud kissing Tifa, or proclaiming to become her special existence....maybe I am the delusional one...." God I can't wait for part 3, it will be hilarious.

#cloti #ffvii #ffvii rebirth #ffvii remake #cloud strife #tifa lockhart #aerith gainsborough #ff7 #shipping

134 notes · View notes

asumofwords · 2 years ago

Text

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Hello my sweet angel loves, my little gremlins, the little monsters in my ears, here is another chapter because I cannot resist and I also am so excited and eager to keep writing ! So without further blah blah blah from me, here is the next chapter <3 P.S can you tell I have a blood kink?

Chapter 78: The Prospect of Change

Grief, grief, and more grief.

It was what you felt. It was what you delivered. It was who you were now to your very core. Its grip dug sharp claws into your flesh, ripping you apart so that it may make a home inside of you. Inside the cavity of your chest, where your heart had once sat, now replaced with the blackened pit of despair which continued to pulse, and open, and consume you with every waking moment.

And in this very moment, with Aemond atop you, his hard length lining itself up with your still bruised and torn core, you felt it.

Grief.

Grief that you wanted it. Grief that in some ways you didn’t. Grief in knowing that he had taken everything from you. Grief in knowing that he would continue to do so. Aemond took, and took and took. Your dignity. Your sanity. Your girlhood. And he would continue to take, and take, and take. And all that you could do was let him.

And take in return.

And so in the darkened chambers, upon the bed with your gown stripped from your body, you let him take, and you took back.

What surprised you most about grief, is the way you sought out comfort.

Comfort in the form of company from someone who caused you said grief.

Comfort in the form of your justified rage.

Comfort in the form of wine, ale. Star fruit.

Sex.

Aemond was careful. Cautious even. As though he feared he might be the last to pull the fraught and fraying strings that were continuing to be tugged apart inside of you. As though he feared that he would burn the strings away with his fire, with no possible chance of tying those threads back together.

Knotted to hold the lines of your sanity, damaged in a way that it could not come back.

Damaged.

And he treated you as damaged.

And it made the grief all the more encompassing.

Broken, he had called you.

And as he looked down at you from above with an eye that screamed caution, an eye that waited for confirmation, a face of his own grief as he knew you had endured his own tortures from him brother, it made you feel as broken as he called you.

Raising your hips upwards, you chased after his length, wishing for it to be over. Wishing for Aegon to not be the last person who had been inside of you. To metaphorically wash your hands of him. To cleanse yourself of him. To rid yourself of his smell, his touch, the feeling of him inside of you.

For it is better to be with the evil you know, than the one that you didn’t.

Though, you supposed you knew Aegon now.

You wondered if Helaena found comfort in the evil of Aegon, and feared the one in Aemond she did not know. Or perhaps she did know. Or perhaps, she too sought solace in Aemond herself from the abuse of her brother and husband, seeking loving and soft hands, kind words and protection from her younger brother.

But Helaena was gone, and even when she was here, you could not find it in yourself to ask.

Aemond had been clinical about the way he entered you, watching the way your face screwed up in pain, slowing down and pausing, letting you adjust to him, through the bruising and wounds that had not yet healed.

The pain was familiar.

The stretch was familiar.

Aemond’s ache was familiar, and so with your legs wrapped around his back, you impatiently pulled him inside of you. To be over with it. To become accustomed to his pain again.

A low groan melted through him as he moved his whole length inside of you, and you grit your teeth to get through the agony. To move through the motions. To not break again. To not cry. To deal with it.

It’s Aemond.

It’s him.

He has done this before.

It is only him.

The Prince drew himself out of you slowly, to then push back in, looking down between your bodies to watch his shaft sink into your heat repeatedly. Methodically. Softly. Looking down to ensure that he was not breaking his prize further than already done. To ensure that his spoils of war were not too spoiled. To ensure that his niece, his wife, his blood, his love was enduring as she always did.

His.

It was like a bruise being pushed. A cut being pulled.

But you wanted it.

You needed it.

And despite Aemond beginning to thrust into you at an even pace, and his face flitting from between you and then back up to you won, to watch as you whimpered and grit your teeth, and the betrayal of tears began to pool in your eyes, he still continued, knowing that you would stop him if you wanted. Knowing that you needed it, just as much as him.

And it showed.

For all his restraint, his reverence, and fleeting kindness, his shoulders were tensed and shook with anger.

Anger that you had been hurt.

Anger that you had been touched.

Anger that he had done nothing to stop it.

Two pieces on a board moved by those above you.

Two pieces on a board who despite the illusion, had no power.

Two pieces on a board who had been moved at the whims of their parents, family, and sides of the war.

Two pieces that had been melted down, and reformed. Crooked, and bent, and scarred.

Anger. Rage. Grief.

It seemed that was all the two of you were anymore.

Anger. Rage. Grief.

Curled into the bodies of two.

Anger. Rage. Grief.

Two of the same, with the refusal to see.

Aemond shifted, using one hand to pull your hips upwards, angling his thrusts to rub against the sensitive spongey spot inside of you and you mewled.

You wanted to feel good.

You needed to feel good.

And Aemond could give that to you.

Aemond held your hips up and continued to thrust, spurred on by your reaction.

“Fuck.” He moaned, clenching his eye shut as he struggled to keep his thrusts slow, and his dwindling composure there.

“Harder.” You commanded, voice hoarse.

His eye shot open as he looked down at you, stilling half thrust.

“Harder.” You told him again, shifting your hips upwards as you used your hands to grab onto his arms, fingernails digging into the flesh of his skin.

Aemond kept his gaze on you for a moment, thinking over your command. Wondering if he should. Wondering if he could let himself go. Wondering if it would make it worse. But as you tilted your hips up once again, a sigh falling from your lips as the tip of his cock slid through your folds, he gave in.

Thrusting into you with a new vigour, he held you close against him, one arm holding you against his pelvis, the other propped above your head to give him leverage. Every thrust caused pain to spark up within you, the soft tinges of terror hiding in your throat.

But the pain was soon mixed with pleasure as his hand moved to your pearl, and began to swirl gently over it. You moaned, arching your back as his pace got quicker, and his fingers more unrelenting.

“You’re mine.” He groaned, fingers wet with your slick as he began to pull shaky pleasure through you.

“Only mine. Always mine.” He puffed, hips beginning to clap against you as he poured his own anger and grief into you.

“Mine.”

“Yours.” You replied, back arching as tears welled in your eyes.

His.

Forever.

Always his.

In one way or another, he had left his mark on you.

Shifting backwards, Aemond sat on his heels, pulling your hips into his lap, the new angle causing his tip to bully your spot within and brush against your cervix. You whined, throwing your head back as he began to pump into you sharply.

“I love you.” He grunted, still fucking into your warm and wet heat.

Your breath caught in your throat as you looked at him, his pupil blow wide as he looked down at your face. He looked sincere. He looked passionate. Silver hair messed atop his head, scar raw and red through his missing eye, lips half open as he lost himself to pleasure.

“Give in.” Aemond purred, seeing the way your eyes widened at his confession, “Admit it. You love me. Just as I love you.” His thrusts became sharper, and one fo his hands moved to press against your lower belly, feeling himself move through your walls.

You moaned, feeling him move deeply within you, the hand on your stomach pushing pressure down into your core, before his hand travelled back to your bud and swirled with new vigour.

Memories swirled in your mind.

Aemond sitting atop Aegon in the dungeons. His fists pummelling into the face of his older brother. The way he had growled. The way he had shook with anger. With rage. With grief.

“Your mine. No one will touch you again. No one. I promise.” The Prince rambled, thrusts becoming sloppier as his shaft throbbed within you.

You arched into his touch, feeling pleasure begin to bloom in your core, the tell tale signs of your release getting close.

Aemond atop Aegon in the Dining Hall, pretty hands wrapped around the pale throat of the King, squeezing.

“My beautiful wife,” He moaned, fingers gently swiping through your folds and back to your pearl. “My beautiful zaldrīstos. Always been yours. Always.”

“Fuck.” You puffed, feeling your release begin to rise inside.

Aemond in black. Black robes to match yours. Hand in hand. One.

“Can feel you gripping me. You’re close. Such a good wife.” You mewled, feeling your core clench around his cock, “Sȳz riña.” Good girl.

Mine.

Blinding white pleasure burst through you, spreading up through your body as you cried out, tears leaking down your cheeks as you squeezed your eyes shut, relishing in the pleasure that he brought you.

“Konīr, ñuha gevie ābrazȳrys.” There, my beautiful wife, He cooed, swiping your bud gently as he fucked you through your release.

”Ñuha ābrazȳrys.” My wife, Aemond’s thrusts became sloppier, hips clapping into yours as you laid limply beneath him, legs going numb, “Ñuha jorrāelagon. Avy jorrāelan. Eman va moriot jorrāelatan ao.”

My love.

I love you.

I have always loved you.

Aemond shuddered, thrusting into you deeply as he came, his seed spurting deep inside of you, filling your womb. He held still above you as he moaned, pressing his forehead to yours as his cock throbbed inside of you.

Eman va moriot jorrāelatan ao. I have always loved you.

You laid beneath him as you caught your breath, limbs tingling with pleasure. But as the pleasure subsided, the pain returned, and you shifted beneath him as sharp throbs pulled up from your core.

Another tear fell from your cheek.

Avy jorrāelan. My love.

You sniffed, shifting beneath him, pulling your hips backwards, his softening cock pulling out from within you. You hissed, shifting again to lay limply back on the bed. Aemond leant back to look at you, a hand moving to cradle your cheek as he looked at you.

“Iksā ñuhon.” You are mine.

Mine.

Always.

Since the day you were born. Till the day you would die.

Another tear slid down your face, and Aemond’s hand quickly swiped it away.

“Iksā ȳgha. Issa sepār nyke.” You’re safe. It’s just me.

Another tear.

“Y/n…” Aemond murmured, laying down on to the bed beside you, pulling you against him and the sheets over the top of you both. He tucked your head beneath his, and pulled you close to his bare chest.

He was warm, and smelt of him.

Familiar.

Safe.

“Nyke kivigon naejot ao, ossēninna mirre mēre qilōni renigon ao arlī.” I swear to you, I will kill anyone who touches you again.

And you believed him.

That night you slept beside each other, pressed against him, inhaling deeply as you shuddered through the pain that ebbed inside of you. Though soon enough from exhaustion, from grief, from rage, or the comfort of false safety, you fell to sleep in his arms and dreamt of nothing.

No nightmares of serpents. No dreams of whispering vipers, or the calling voices of your aunt and brother. No dreams of falling. No dreams of Godswood’s which spoke to you. Or Aegon’s grin in the dark.

Nothing.

When you woke, you were still in Aemond’s arms, his fingers on your hip tracing lazy runes across the skin. Aemond sensed that you had woken and gripped you tighter to him, placing a kiss atop the crown of your head.

“Did you sleep?” He asked, sleep in his voice.

“I did.” You murmured, “Did you?”

Aemond did not answer.

And soon the maids arrived, as they always did, to ready you for the day, and provided the two of you with breakfast. Aemond helped you to stand, and wrapped you tightly in the gown beside your bed, your bruised neck bare to the room.

When he led you to sit at the table, he pulled out your seat and helped to push you in, pausing beside you as you looked up at him. It looked as though he wished to say something. But he didn’t.

As the two of you sat opposite of each other, eating your breakfast in a terse tension and environment. Unsure of how to move forward. Unsure of how to go back. Unsure of how to talk to him without mentioning the day prior, or the days before that.

But Aemond had changed. And you were changing too. And his usual greens had turned to black, and his entire demeanour had shifted. Aemond could be an ally. And you needed to work him to it.

Reaching across the table you helped yourself to a large star fruit, relishing in the way Aemond followed your hand.

Star fruit.

Always the star fruit.

You feared that you were growing to hate your favourite fruit, and the secrets that it held.

Another thing taken from you.

But, you digressed, and ate at it with sticky and unsteady hands, tearing it to pieces upon your plate, barely containing the visible anger that shook you to your core. The visible anger that just simmered beneath the surface of you.

Where is your fire?

It had never gone.

Not truly.

It was always there.

But fire needed to be tended to. Fire needed to be kept safe. Fire could burn out quicker than when needed if it burnt everything in its path. If there was nothing for it to burn or hold onto. But Aemond loved your fire. He encouraged it. He provoked it, and prodded it, and disturbed it, and added to the flames.

And you did the same for him.

How long until you burn each other?

How long until the both of your flames sizzle out?

Small talk was exchanged as you ate.

“What is to happen to us?” You asked quietly, unsure of how to broach the conversation. Unsure of how to bring attention to the three Kings guards who could still possibly be outside your chambers waiting.

“I will go back to performing my duties as I always have.”

Always.

“Are you sure the King wants you to?”

“He could not rule without me.” Aemond’s tone was clipped.

Poorly hidden rage.

You hummed, licking the nectar of the fruit form your fingers, Aemond’s eye watching the way your tongue darted out to gather the juice.

The way your tongue had gathered his blood.

You cleared your throat, pushing away the insecurities and fear that began to rise again.

“And what of me?”

Aemond looked at you intently as he put his cutlery down on the table.

“He will not touch you again.” His voice held conviction.

You believed him.

“Yes, but what am I to do?”

“Do as you were. Keep up appearances. Go to the Gardens that you love so dearly, and read. Go to the Godswood and pray. Seek haven in the Library as we did as children. Do as you please as a Princess of the realm.”

“Anything but leave.” You pointed out.

Aemond did not respond.

“But what if-“ You began.

“Aegon will be in my sight at all times. And if he is not, I will come straight to you.”

You stared at him.

Straight to you.

Always you.

“Promise me.”

Aemond leant back in his chair, “I think I have broken far too many promises to you. But I will give you my word instead. My word as the Prince, and my word as the unnamed Prince Regent.” He spoke softly, “My word as your husband. Kesan tepagon ao tolvie run.”

I will give you everything.

“And if you break your word?” You asked, tilting your head.

“Then you may bring fire as you always have.”

Days go past, and you and Aemond keep a routine together, creating a new one from the broken pieces of the last. You eat, you sleep, and you fuck. You have breakfast together, and he goes to the King to fulfil his duties. You read together by the fire in your chambers. You speak to one another more about the books you read. About memories past. About anything, and everything, but what haunts you both.

You return to the gardens like you had once before, book in hand, though not reading.

Thinking.

Plotting.

How to win the war.

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

Tag List:

@izzicle @ej-shitchats @may-machin @alegria1580 @witchy-jadda @videovampire @inkdelicious @queteimporta39 @virtualsweetsqueen @fo-cus @auratiqs @feyres-fireheart @queenofshinigamis @asoiafwh8re @teasandcrumpets @shesjustanothergeek @grungegrrrl@queenofsarcazm @marihoneywk @curlszx88 @virgogaia @loser-keiji @asoiafwh8re @whore-of-many-hot-men @vipervixxen @theonewiththeimaginaryboyfriends @watercolorskyy @lavendervisions @mazmack666 @chokefrog @orangejump-suit @nik2blog @serrhaewinin @ohemgeewhat @winxschester @cryptidsrcool @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @celestedonut @bloodyvelvet777 @iamapersonthatsalive @av-sos @yentroucnagol @sanzu-s @opheliaas-stuff @bellameshipper @maviee @persephonerinyes @neytiri-09 @ensnaredinwonderland @xbluegracex @sotragedynut @nattieot7 @shesawaywiththefairies-blog @coffedraven @prettycutebunny @celestedonut @the-jess-life @ssulfurr @out-of-life @madislayyy @crazylokonugget @cicaspair418 @katwmk @relminnie @milovart @teagrex @visenyaverse @bellameshipper @toodlesxcuddles @tempt-ress @dontmindmereading7 @qyburnsghost @55gyi53vtnquwziq5 @notnormalthings-blog @maidmerrymint @qyburnsghost @madislayyy @chelseaouat

Bold is who I cannot tag!

458 notes · View notes

velvetvexations · 1 month ago

Text

--- somehow i don't think the trans radfem movement thinks aphobia is a fine word to exist

It's almost quaint. Almost.

Why is there a wave of trans radfems defending 4chan boards

I'm going to need to be pointed to this if only because I'm going to get dinged for spreading malicious lies about trans women being "Nazis" otherwise, but lmfao if true.

wtf kind of hill is txttletale dying on now?

I mean she's still a tankie fuck but apparently now she's also getting in on the transmisogynistic harassment campaign game.

isn't "doll" specifically a fetish term? that is really not something people should be applying to other people without making sure it's ok first.

No, it's a Black ballroom term that trans women started running with.

People on this site are taking pissing on the poor to a whole new goddamn level “telling people that this person is/has sexually harassed someone who was a minor is calling everyone with their identity a pedophile”, I’d blame the school system but that really was a choice not to actually read and relay

it's definitely malicious

joan jett in the mv for i hate myself for loving you is like, unbearably beautiful

so true

it’s so obvious that these people choose to isolate themselves in a dimension crafted out of their own self-hatred that they care more about hurting their oppressors (and people who don’t even oppress them) than uplifting people hurt by systems of oppression. sometimes i think i’m bad but then i come across people like that and realise i’m relatively well-adjusted

inspiring innit

post addressed to trans women from a trans woman about trans women –> trfs in the notes: “why are you telling me to be nice to trans men?”

they have their priorities

absolutely wild to say that transunitists are 2010-reddit-style mras and then say things like "afab privilege." yeah those afabs with their wielding of power. and i bet they get free drinks at every bar and their bosses promote them for being pretty, huh.

they get upset at having their logic compared to MRAs because it's implicit misgendering (never mind that they directly call random trans men MRAs and radfems as well) but I'm not sure what they expect when they talk at length about how all of those fucking evil AFAB bitches are just waiting for their chance to screw you over with a false rape accusation

"pick me" is AAVE, and, like all white girls, they're overusing and misusing it until it has no meaning left 🙄

I actually wasn't aware of that. Neat. Disputed? See replies.

a lot of this going on is just reminding me once again of the intense monogenderism that really never gets worked on. It’s super awkward as a multigendered individual and an intersex one

it also just really feels so fucking tone ignorant the way people talk.

society still calls traits of men or masc, some even actively choose to agree while still being a counter to it gender but obviously real trans women don’t so attacking those things would never hurt them, and multigender trans woman who are also men? Obviously fake.

the English language is so fucking insufficient

I honestly wish every asshole who seems to think the ability to mask as complete cis and definitely just your assigned gender is a privilege had to live in my head for the holiday season. I am entirely in the closet with my family because of bigotry I have no other choice than living with my family for multiple reasons I just spent the entire winter holiday pretending to be a woman answering to my deadname being called aunty and sister and daughter and not being able to say jack shit about it without even being able to retreat to the solace of my friends afterwards because they are all busy with their own families. I want those assholes to experience the emotions and thoughts I just went through and come out the otherside and see if they still think that this is a fucking privilege.

Love you anon. <3

that anon telling on themselves so hard saying transmisogynys "far deeper" than transphobia. literally why on earth would you phrase it like that if the point was anything besides "my *special* oppression is way more poignant and meaningful than your boring regular oppression"

lmao right though it's so obviously just trying to mark their thing as having more dramatic flair

do you keep a backup of your blog with a program like tumblthree? there's a lot of valuable posts on it, and tumblr is almost distressingly transitory.

I don't, but noted.

#trans androphobia #trans radical feminism #exor sexism #discourse

28 notes · View notes

storywriter007 · 7 months ago

Text

You Fall Asleep Everywhere - Leo Valdez x Fem!Reader

request: could you do a leo valdez x daughter of hypnos reader. He has a fat crush on her and she's his bestfriend so she's always napping near and on him, just some cute fluffy stuff

author's note: hope you guys like it, it's my first time taking a request :)

warnings: kissing, self-doubt

genre: fluff

word count: 783

-> heroes of olympus masterlist

✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒

send me requests here!

✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒

y/n searched around camp, trying to find her best friend. she hadn't seen him in two days.

"hey, have any of you guys seen leo?" she asked piper and jason.

"no, i haven't." piper answered, looking around. "he might be with percy."

so she made her way to percy.

"percy, have you seen leo?" she asked.

"no, maybe the stolls have got him?"

another lap around camp led her to the stoll brothers.

"hey guys, have you seen leo?"

"no." travis said, looking at connor.

"yeah, no."

there was only one place left he could be.

✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒

he was in his little workshop, underneath the hephaestus cabin.

"leo, i've been searching all over camp for you." she said, walking into his lair.

he jumped up at the sound of noise. he turned around, facing y/n.

"sorry." he said. "i had an idea."

she knew him. whenever he had an idea for an invention, he locked himself up in his lab and maniacally worked on it until it was perfect. she sat down next to him.

"i'm so sleepy, i'm not even gonna try." she said, looking down at maps that were sprawled all over his desk.

"you're always sleepy." he laughed.

it was too late, y/n was out cold on leo's shoulder. he felt his heart flutter a little. it was nothing new, y/n was always sleeping on him. on the new york subway, during campfires, in his workshop, on the beach.

but they were best friends. nothing more, nothing less. y/n was gorgeous, smart, kind, and funny. she wouldn't date leo, she shouldn't date him. she was made for somesort of hero, someone everybody looked up to. she deserved a jason grace or a percy jackson, not a leo.

✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒

it was three in the morning when y/n woke up.

"are you still doing this?" she asked.

"yup." he smiled.

y/n sat up, looking around.

"oh my god, it is so past curfew. if i try to go back now, chiron will definitely see me." she laughed.

"you fall asleep everywhere, i'm sure he'll understand." leo chuckled.

"uh, not true." she protested.

"on the subway, during campfires, the beach, in my evil lair." he reminded.

"that's just because you're there and you tire me out." she said, picking up a random screw.

"aw, you can only sleep when i'm there?" he asked.

she paused to think about.

"i guess so."

in all honesty, y/n wasn't always falling asleep around other people.

"wait, really?"

"yeah. i guess your crazy presence is somehow calming to me." she reasoned, messing around with the screw. "

there was just something about him that made y/n want to be around him all the time. i mean maybe it was his curly hair and his cute smile, or maybe it was how he always made her laugh. maybe it was the fact that y/n was hopelessly crushing on him.

leo looked at her, wondering what to say next. should he make a stupid joke? no. maybe? yes? no. perhaps?

"i-i like you y/n." he confessed.

"what?" she asked, looking up at him.

"i've liked you since i first met you on the quest. a-and i didn't know if you'd like me back. i mean, why would you like me back? you're like really smart, and kind, and pretty, and funny and i'm sure you'd like a hero, like jason or percy. i mean everyone likes them, who wouldn't? they're the ideal guys-" he rambled.

"leo."

"and they're like the perfect gentlemen. and maybe not them, maybe one of the aphrodite boys or apollo boys, like will solace. i mean, he glows. how do you compete with that-"

"leo!"

"what!"

"i like you too." she laughed.

"what!" he repeated.

"you're the sweetest, most-caring, funniest, cutest person i know. why do you think i'm around you all the time?"

they both looked into each other's eyes before coming to the inevitable. their lips met as y/n's hands moved across his face and hair and as leo's hands found her waist, pulling her closer to him. both of them had waited far too long for this. after a few seconds, they pulled away, gazing into each other's eyes.

"do you smell that?" y/n asking, a burning scent filling the room.

"smell what?." he answered

she looked behind him to see a small fire on a trash can.

"seriously, leo?" she asked.

"what? pretty girls make me nervous." he laughed.

#heroes of olympus #hoo #percy jackson #piper mclean #jason grace #hoo x reader #heroes of olympus x reader #leo valdez #leonidas valdez #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x y/n #leo valdez x you

97 notes · View notes

bts5sosempire · 2 years ago

Text

the tyrant (vi); side two

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sukuna ryomen x reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 3,443

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: old time period, mention of arranged marriage, polygamous marriages, slow-burn yandere, power imbalances, peer pressure, anxiety attack (beginning, it's mc), superstition involved, etc.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: "you were the apple of Sukuna’s eyes, the one who brought him solace and everything. The only thing you were incapable of was giving him a child, an heir he wished to spoil like he did to you."

𝐚/𝐧: so I finally churn and did the other half, I didn't proof read this btw. For now letting y'all simmer in this one. Pls like, comment down below for tagging, and reblogged if you like! Thank you for your patience lovelies! 💖✨️

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Your heart was hammering that it resounded loudly in your ears, and you could feel your blood rushing through every part of your body and veins. You were scared. Sukuna quickly departed after the revelation and reveled in your horrid expression; he had made it clear what his intentions with you were; this time, it wasn't just a fleeting dream you could avoid. It's a reality now. You quickly dismiss everyone to go on break, much to their appreciation, and then throw yourself into an abandoned room where no soul is around.

Once inside the room, your legs give out just in time as you drop onto the floor while screwing your eyes shut tightly when your body goes through rapid temperature changes. Your anxiety keeps spiking up as you struggle to breathe correctly; one of your clammy hands grips the collar of your kimono in pain while the other is blindingly holding the door shut. To prevent anyone from coming in and seeing you like this.

You waited until your anxiety went down and your throat was not encasing itself like a boa. The inside of your mouth tasted dry like chalk, yet it was slimy. Even your body glides in light sweat when you can feel them forming on your forehead too. It feels pretty hot now despite the cold air inside the room. The fabulous cape on your shoulders reminds you of Sukuna's presence, and you tear it off and throw it as far as you can in a fit of weak anger. The sudden anxiety attack left you tired when you tried to move further inside the room but couldn't and just hopelessly lay still against the door.

Your stomach gnaws in discomfort, and the sourness pools inside. You tried to steer your mind away from Sukuna, and it's hard. The problem seems to arise after another when you think you have taken yourself out of it. Your mind reels that there's nowhere to hide anymore; this is too much for you to bear at the given moment.

Cursing at yourself, tears pools around your eyes, and your vision blurs for a second. Wiping them away before they can fall only enables the dam to be broken; once one falls, all starts to cascade down your face. The quiet sniffles and hiccuping down your voice echo around the vacant room quietly; you cry over many things, but the fear of losing your individuality and becoming Sukuna's scares you the most. You don't want to submit to someone like him.

Your bracelet was the only thing that gave you peace and comfort, knowing that you still had complete control over your anatomy. Your rights to your life, but he had to take that away from you, didn't he? Using your sleeves to wipe out the tears, you fiddle with the bangle and see it is polished when turning it around on your wrist. You unclasped the lock and saw the small door on the inside was sealed shut. If Sukuna thoroughly modifies your bangle, then the residue of basil should be gone too.

Without much thought, you gradually pick up your bearing and act normal again, like you didn't experience any turmoil. Once you go back out there, you have to face everything again. You're sure that mouths were already flapping around with rumors and stories of the stunt Sukuna had pulled prior. Looking at the forgotten cloak that pools on the floor, disgust fills your red-rimmed eyes. There was a heavy sigh from your lips; you pondered whether you should leave it there to be found by someone else or pick it up and hand it to someone to give it back.

If you were to wear it again, you would have to meet him and return it in person. You don't want to see him; the fear of him subsides only a little bit, and it is slowly replaced with bitterness. Graciously picking it up, you decided to find the nearest available servant. "You two there," You call out when opening the door. Your presence startled two maids that jumped up in fright, and they quickly bowed before sticking close together. "Take this to Lord Sukuna," handing the cloak over to them; they took it from your hands gently despite being hesitant to do so while trembling at the mention of his name since everyone was afraid of Sukuna.

When you're out of sight, two young maids do what they are told when walking out of the long corridor. One suddenly said, "Did you see Lady (Name) eyes? I think she was crying." It piqued her friend's interest, but they shook their head. "I didn't see it; I'm too nervous to look at her."

"I guess it was confirmed earlier when Lord Sukuna came by to visit Lady (Name); nobody was close enough to hear what they were saying, but as soon as his Lord left..." The first maid was continuing to whisper to her friend until a figured pop around the corner.

It was Uraume, and both shut up instantly and properly greeted Sukuna's retainer. Uraume barely acknowledges their existence and walks on to help you with decorations. It was until they spoke loudly for only those two to hear, "It would be in your best interest to be careful about what you utter around. Every day, heads roll around in the execution yard."

That was enough for them to walk away faster.

Sukuna stares at a 3d map in front of him; it shows the whole region of Japan, but he's more concerned about the mountains. Up in the hills were the Heiyan people, native to the harsh nature there. For as long as Sukuna knows, they have been a thorn in his side. They are nothing but vicious in his eyes, deluding themselves from the path of advancing modern technology. The Heiyan are known to be strict with their traditional values; they rarely derive from their beliefs, as they don't even mix their blood with other people, only their own.

Sukuna wanted rare ores from there, but they made it difficult for him to gather as they had pushed him away. He knows that marriage is always a topic when dealing with anything political. The chieftain of the Heiyan, Cheif Mozuru, was a stubborn man. The only way to access the land was to marry one of his four daughters, but Sukuna was also a mule, perverse in his thought that they weren't worthy of him.

The War Demon has taste, but he wouldn't lower himself to be with them as they expect him to change too. They also wish for him to convert to their beliefs, and much to Sukuna's dismay, he rejects the notion on the spot. Now they are at war with each other.

But there was exciting news that was brought to him the other day by a spy who he had happened to bribe. The spy was no further than an agent from a neighboring rival, Totsuwa Iriyu. The man was marrying the second eldest daughter to secure a treaty. News of Sukuna trying to get access to the land was probably the main reason why Totsuwa decided to strike. Totsuwa was often an overzealous man, having been trying to pine down Sukuna's title for the longest as he knew. And for another reason.

Sukuna was the reason why Totsuwa's father died in the first place—he framed the poor senile man for converting power secretly and trying to raise a coup d'etat against the former Emperor.

"You should be thankful that your father had passed away peacefully." Sukuna chuckled lowly into Totsuwa's ear with the intent of throwing salt to the wound. The blood of Totsuwa's father drips down the Sukuna's face onto Totsuwa's garb. The son could only watch with eyes wide with shock and terror as his father's corpse, hollow vacant eyes with their mouth wide loose, reflected in his eyes. The blood that seeps from the open slash across the torso dyed the tatami mat red.

Sukuna then patted the latter shoulder a few times and stood up from his one-kneeling position and out the door. The blade shines brightly from the moonlight despite it being coated in droplets of red.

With the death of Totsuwa's father, Sukuna was granted more of the Emperor's grace for taking such a jaded person out, making him unstoppable. If it was known, the Totsuwa household name fell from grace as they were no longer invited to be a part of the Emperor's insiders. Soon, more fell off their seat, and only a few remained behind. The Gojo, Geto, Zen'in, and a newly formed clan, the Fushiguro.

To add more history, Sukuna was the one who put Emperor Hoshu up on that seat by assassinating their younger half-brother, Hoshen, during a power struggle.

Sukuna then gazes to the side of the table where his cloak lays. Two hesitant maids returned it, saying you ordered them to return it to him. What Sukuna had done may have spooked you. Returning his items is like returning his undesirable affection, as always; this is nothing new to him. He already got a grasp on you; all he needs to do is tighten it and let you submit yourself into his palm and accept his pampering.

"Doctor," Sukuna spoke up suddenly, and the physician almost toppled their pills to the side with fright. "How long would it take Lady (Name) to conceive?"

"Depends; in the meantime, she shouldn't consume anything such as medicine and concoctions for at least a week. Feeding her anything may disrupt the blood flow and cause a clot in her system, as her body needs to be recovered naturally." They nervously explained to Sukuna, who was considering their words.

Sukuna: "If she can't consume anything now, is there a way to speed up the process?"

The doctor ponders momentarily, "There might be a way, but it's a slippery slope." They look around the room and then pause to stare at the door for long seconds, then cup their mouth to whisper at Sukuna. "There is this rumored famous witch doctor among the locals, especially for the ladies, that they can cure any afflictions."

"Surely you're not jesting me? I'm a man who believes in advanced warfare and science, not superstitions." Sukuna gives the man a dubious gaze that tests the physician, "What (Name) suffered from is internally inside her body, not spiritually."

The doctor rapidly waves their hands, "You're mistaken, My Lord! It's also not about spirituality; they can also cure the body and let it return to its natural state physically. What you say about Lady (Name) is accurate; if you wish to remove the coldness that makes her unviable, I suggest you visit them!"

Sukuna pinch the bridge of his nose; he regrets even asking and should wait for your time limit to be up. "You do understand that you sound like a cuckoo, right?"

"This is ridiculous," Sukuna muttered under his breath. His red steed snorts and clomps its hooves against the pebble ground to agree with their master. In front of him two days later, he decided to visit the shaman's house ground. He had left the estate in secret, not without informing Uraume to keep an eye on you, and traveled a few hours out of his domain by horse to throttle up a pathway to a steep mountain.

There were no signs of life when he arrived, so much for being a famous shaman. Climbing off his horse, he ties the reins against a tree stump. Sukuna went further inside the location, his piercing red eyes scraping any signs if anyone was residing in this place.

The only thing that was presentable in front of him was a red door, and inside were countless candles lit. Sukuna heads inside with slow, studious steps that not even a trained ear can hear him. Hand at the hilt of the sword that was strapped by his side.

The further he walks in, it reminds him of the time he was targeted or willfully let himself be away by an enemy into the danger zone. Sukuna could feel a presence coming close to him, and the hand that held the hilt tightened.

With a quick draw from the scabbard, a ting resounds in the air through the available space of the building. Sukuna turned around with precision and let a full swing as his blade rested neatly against the stranger's neck; just a few more centimeters and their head would be swiped clean off and hit the ground. "Who are you?" Sukuna demanded, his red orbs locking onto the person, not phased by his overbearing attitude.

"Is this how a guest greets the owner of this place?" The person scoffs. They raise a finger and push the sharp edge away from their neck. "Although you're not the first nor likely be the last to do so." The shaman had had multiple occurrences of almost getting their heads chopped off due to virtually having little to no presence. "I'm quite impressed that you could detect me, Lord Sukuna. " They ask, "What special occasion has brought you here to my humble adobe?" Their tone changes to sweet and sultry in an instant.

"I've heard you are a good witch doctor from an acquaintance of mine," Sukuna starts, and the shaman only hums before guiding Sukuna to follow and sit on a pillow across from them.

"Who exactly did you get it from?" Sukuna gives the doctor's name, and they roll their eyes sarcastically, "I see it's that moron." Getting comfortable with themselves, they propped an arm up the table and lay sideways with their hips and curve showing. They give off an androgynous physique. "If they led you this far to me, I guess I could help. What is the problem?"

"It's about my wife," Sukuna curtly replies.

"Ah, that fair maiden?" They gave a knowing look, and Sukuna knew the shaman thought of you. Sukuna didn't miss how the unhidden admiration of mirth in their eyes was so bright it could be a night sky. He is slightly agitated by that acknowledgment. "Lady (Name) is quite a character, I looked up their star chart, and it was filled with many things. She has quite a life, I should say."

"I came here for help, not to idle." Sukuna's voice got gruff, and the shaman cleared their throat and recomposed. "Recently, I have learned that she doesn't have fertility issues but was caused by something else, and before you run your mouth, it's not anything relating to your superstitions ideology. She causes it herself semi-permanently."

"And the cause is?" They inquire with a raised brow.

"Basil. Basil seeds, she doesn't consume them, but wears them." That's all that the shaman needs to know where it's heading. It's uncommon to stumble upon women making them sterile to prevent unwanted pregnancy. The shaman had come across a crisis like this a few years ago prior.

"You wanted me to remove the cold affliction in her body?" There was a slight smile from them, but it was daunting. "I could, but there is a heavy price to pay."

Sukuna: "How much do you need?"

Shaman: "It is not gold being used for this transaction; what do you think the womb that creates life is equivalent to?"

[At the same time.]

It was quiet at the manor, with a few more decorations; it should be complete. There was a proud breath of air exhaling from your chest; all you need is to finalize everything and report to your mother-in-law. The thought of Hanami made you feel disgruntled, "Everyone, please take a quick break before we continue." A murmur of thanks filled the air.

"Let's go, Yumi," taking a walk; you were chatting with her, making small jokes here and there. Occasionally Yumi reminds you that she represents a simpler time when you were still young and didn't have this much weight on your shoulders.

"Is Concubine Asuna this dense?" An exacerbated pitch voice raised in the courtyard. You can hear two quiet sniffles; it belongs to a woman and a child. Concubine Asuna held her weeping son in her arms as two higher-upper consorts bullied them.

"She's a person with no backbone, yet dares to be courageous," another concubine snide, "even the boy doesn't even look like Lord Sukuna. Do you think she slept around?"

"Probably," the same annoying voice quip back and laughs at the thought. "Plain and undeserving too. Hey, take off your outer layer, or these servants will."

"Under whose order?" You stepped in, and the two concubines, along with their subjects, froze when they saw you walking toward them with a cold, menacing gaze that could cut a person down.

"We were just teaching Concubine Asuna manners Lady (Name)," the concubine with the pitched voice sputters out; they kept their head low, and so did everyone else. No one dares to look at you in the eyes except for Asuna's child, that looks at you with comprehensive, wondering grey eyes. You represent Sukuna.

"And by sullying Lord Sukuna's name and one of his heirs?" You tilt your head to the side with a questioning gaze, and there is a click of your tongue when they start denying with nervous laughter. "I was standing not that far away from here and heard everything, so you say I am deaf?"

"That's not what we're implying, Lady (Name)!" The second concubine cries, lifting their head to meet you, with no other excuses; they spit out the first thing that comes to mind. "You're just bullying us since Lord Sukuna favors you!"

This made you laugh. "Oh? Interesting. Should I bring it to His Lord, then?"

The second concubine put a hand over her mouth and sped away; the first one could only watch with disbelief as she was abandoned by one of her supposed allies. She sneers at you with hatred and then follows suit. "Are you alright?" You ask. Asuna only nodded. You grab her by the arm and pull her up, "You should be careful."

You then eye the little boy who is no older than three. They looked at you, blinking a few times, and then continued. "Mommy, this is the princess on my book cover!" They point at you in happiness, and you look down at your garb.

"Danzo, that's not the princess," Asuna turned to you and mouthed a sheepish sorry.

"Yes, it is!" Danzo ripped their hand from their mother's hold and tried to wrap their chubby arms around your legs. They cheekily smile at you with their round, flush faces.

You were surprised that you didn't know how to react. Since you couldn't see the bewildered expression on your face, Asuna found you decent despite the stigma everyone labeled around you. You were hesitant as you are relatively flustered coming into contact with a child. Asuna noted that this was the first time one came to you willingly. You pat Danzo's head softly like you're handling a fragile glass. Even if it is maladroit, Danzo melts at the contact; their smile becomes buttery as little flowers float into the background. If they could sink into your clothes, they would.

"You can let go now," You bumble out, and they tighten their grip. Danzo rubbed their face into your legs as they let out a muffled 'no.' It was rare to see you be socially awkward, something so innocent as a child.

"Danzo, you need to listen, or you won't see Lady (Name) anymore." The boy gives their mother a stink eye before loosening their grip. Asuna pulled her son to her side.

With Danzo gone, you return to your normal state.

"My son and I should get going; sorry that you have to see such a sight," Asuna apologizes, and you brush it off with a hand, indicating it is alright.

"If they ever-" There was a ringing in your ears as your vision suddenly blurred in front of you in slow motion. Even sounds sounded such a damper. Your body was heating up, and you felt a searing pain shooting straight through your abdomen where your womb lays.

Staggering forward, everything went dark. The last thing you hear is Yumi crying out your name, and Asuna throws herself forward to catch you.

[The Shaman's place, current time.]

"Are you willing to trade one of your own for the health of her womb?" The shaman asks again. Preparation was already made, but they give another glance at Sukuna for confirmation.

Without hesitation, Sukuna answers.

"Yes."

Taglist: @sukunasobject @lilliansstuff @lucyrocks86 @ladywolf44005 @watyousayin @sandronebabyy @pinkrose1422 @skepticalleo @please-help-therapy-needed @whatsonthemirror @krispsprite @loser-alert @saturnknows @samdric @littlemochi @akigoat @mxghostbee @rose4958 @shadowywizardarcade @huicitawrites @baji-keisukes-wife @choso-wifey @jovialeggsbailiffsoul @sanderaen @peonnnny @tiredlattes @waytomanyhusbands @whatamidoing89 @utena-akashiya @outrofenty @welcometodemonschoolfan @im-a-killer-queen @loverisa @bubera974 @sashaphantomhive @chaoticstrawberryland @onetwo123three @sxftiebee @bbrrose @gretel-gravain @slasherflickchick @floraroselaughter

#fan fiction #jujutsu kaisen #masterlist #jjk x reader #jjk sukuna #anime #jjk fanfic #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #jjk #yandere fanfiction #yandere fic #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere sukuna ryomen #yandere sukuna #yandere sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

617 notes · View notes